


Starving Faithful

by anothersea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Claiming, Come play, Dirty Talk, Docking, Dom Castiel, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, Explicit Consent, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Feminization, First Time, Humiliation kink, Inhuman Castiel, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Manhandling, Marathon Sex, Marking, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, No Refractory Period, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Castiel, Praise Kink, Riding, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Sensory Overload, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Spanking, Sub Dean Winchester, Top Castiel, Top Dean Winchester, Topping from the Bottom, Virginity Kink, Wall Sex, hole spanking, is there a rating above E?, minor bondage, minor pain kink, minor pregnancy kink, physically impossible sex, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 08:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11413932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anothersea/pseuds/anothersea
Summary: Any transgression upon Heaven must be returned tenfold.





	Starving Faithful

Dean’s fantasies used to be so boring.

 

He’d just kinda mentally roll through the usual shit. Scarlett Johansson, and her cleavage, which could be a whole fantasy by itself. The sex scene from _Black Swan_ , good for a couple of Os a few years back. Indiana Jones with his wolf grin, his shirt getting torn off him. And Michelle Pfeiffer as Catwoman, in that amazing shiny latex and licking her whip before she smacked Dean with it, that was always a good one.

 

If he’s really feeling wild, he’ll remember the time he had a threesome with that hot married couple. Not really a threesome, more like the guy wanting another guy to fuck his wife better than he could, and Dean was probably the wrong choice for that. But he remembers spreading her open and eating her out at the same time the guy grabbed his shoulders from behind, his erection obvious even through the pants he kept on. That thought’s enough to get him off in no time at all.

 

Now, though, Dean’s got a little angel on his shoulder. 

 

He and Sam hit up separate cases this week, which Dean is all itchy about but whatever. Gotta trust him sometime. Dean lucked out, because his case turned out to be a bunch of dumbass scared kids in the woods, but he’s still got an extra night paid for in this motel because he flirted with the pretty lady at the front desk and she gave it to him half price.

 

So he’s gonna take his time with himself. He hasn’t had a really long, luxurious, _good_ jerkoff session in a while. The motel’s not great but the bed’s not too shabby. Definitely top tenth percentile of the motels he’s had to stay in when it comes to that.

 

The thought of Cas gets him from zero to sixty so easy. The way he crowded closer and closer to him in Bobby’s kitchen, fuck. Cas could have plowed him right into the refrigerator, and Sam and Bobby would’ve been none the wiser for it.

 

Dean likes to take his time with himself. Tweak his nipples, roll his balls around a little bit in their sac, push against the soft space between his dick and hole until he’s making himself a mess with precome. That’s when he usually starts jerking it.

 

But thinking of Cas, the power that halos him – ha – Dean doesn’t need any build-up. He just unzips his jeans, wriggles them and his underwear down to half-thigh, and starts pumping himself. He rubbed some cheap lotion into his hand before he started this, and his palm is slick. His dick moves easy inside it, and maybe it’s egotistical but the sight of his own wet head appearing and disappearing inside his fist only turns him on more. Never old.

 

Then he imagines _Cas’_ hand pumping him and liquid practically gushes out of the head. He’s not coming, not yet, but even thinking about Cas makes him embarrassingly wet. Maybe it’s that Dean doesn’t really fantasize about people he actually knows. It’s all Paul Newman in _Cool Hand Luke_ and that bartender from four hunts ago, hot enough to level all of Montana and clearly not wearing a bra under her tank top.

 

He sure as hell knows Cas. Carries his mark on his shoulder, and fuck if Dean hasn’t come harder every time he jerks off to him and presses the other hand against that bright red mark. Not only does he know Cas, Cas is an _angel_. Cas threatened to throw him back into Hell and could destroy him with the touch of a finger, a thought. 

 

And here Dean is, getting off to him. His blue eyes, his body only more enticing under all those layers of clothes. The sizzling electricity that surrounds him, _them_ , when they stare at each other. Eye-fucking, really, not that Cas is aware of it.

 

He wonders if Cas could even have sex. Dean’s taken to calling the angels junkless; truth be told, that’s a self-preservation tactic. Not like it’s working, because he mostly just thinks about what’s between Cas’ legs when he says it. 

 

Cas is probably fucking huge. Dean’s vibe on these things is never wrong. He swears it’s like the superpower he never asked for but appreciates the hell out of. Cas has gotta be way bigger than the dudes who brag about it at the hookup spots Dean hits up sometimes. And the best thing is, Cas wouldn’t even care. Just him and his enormous dick.

 

God, Cas probably hasn’t even touched himself. He’s so uptight, really needs a good ruffling. A good _fucking_. Dean almost certainly spends more time thinking about the dude’s dick than he does. Right now it’s definitely his only thought, that and how fucking good he feels.

 

And maybe how he should ease his pants and boxers off all the way and finger himself. Imagine that monster cock up his ass…

 

Dean’s hand is practically as wet as if he was fingering a girl now. “Oh, hello,” he murmurs to no one at all. The view of the motel’s ceiling definitely ain’t what he wants to see right now, so he closes his eyes.

 

His fantasy of Cas seems to flap into place there; in Dean’s mind, he’s sitting almost primly in Dean’s lap. But ain’t nothing _prim_ about what they’re doing. They kiss and it’s wet and warm, Cas’ tongue shoving Dean’s own into his mouth. So fucking aggressive. He sucks red-purple marks into Dean’s neck, right under his chin, and Dean’s going to wear them for weeks. Then he’s licking his way down his body. 

 

Dean likes it slow, but Cas keys him up so much he doesn’t need to bother. He just takes Dean’s dick into his mouth and sucks him hard. Cas bats away Dean’s hands when he tries to push them into Cas’ hair; Dean just wanted to feel how soft it was, not use it to push his mouth in the right direction.

 

Dean still ain’t disappointed. Cas is so bossy, so in control.

 

Fantasy Cas is pumping two fingers into Dean’s hole. Jerking off in this motel room, Dean’s still not naked enough to do the same to himself, but his hips start undulating of their own accord. “Fuck,” he breathes. In his mind, Cas’ eyes flash blue, and Dean comes at that like it’s a command. Most of it ends up on Cas’ chin, and when he kisses Dean again Dean’s come smears all over their fucking faces. A glorious unholy mess.

 

“Cas…”

 

The one word rings loudly through the room.

 

Dean’s going so hard on himself, his eyes squeezed shut, that he doesn’t hear the flap of wings that signals an angel’s actual arrival. 

 

But fuck, he’s close. Fantasy Cas is still finger-fucking his ass, adding a third now. Dean always went so loose and easy after an orgasm. Practically drunk. Cas could do anything he wanted to Dean like this. 

 

Fantasy Cas skims his prostate and Dean howls. “Cas! Cas!” he cries, both in the anonymous black of the fantasy and in the dullness of the motel room.

 

And then, in very real life, Dean’s wrists are caught in a vice grip. That grip pulls his hands off his dick and out of the way, to pin his elbows to the bed at his sides. Dean gasps, fuckin’ obviously, and tries to jolt out of the bed but he’s being held down there, too.

 

He opens his eyes. He’s met with a shocking blue set in return. Messy dark hair. A handsome face Dean would do almost anything to kiss (or sit on, frankly, and he’s not sure which is more embarrassing).

 

“What… is… this?” Cas asks. The very, very real Castiel. 

 

If it was a funnier situation – and gettin’ caught rubbing one out by anyone, nevermind the object of his fantasies, _is_ objectively pretty funny, but Dean can’t appreciate it right now – Dean might have answered something snarky like _my dick, obviously_. Instead, he flushes. He sputters. “I was, uh –”

 

“You called me,” Cas says. His voice is ice. Only ice has the _opposite_ effect on Dean’s dick, usually. “You _prayed_ to me.” His lip pulls up in a small snarl when he sweeps his eyes over Dean’s body. “For _this_?”

 

“I wasn’t praying,” Dean gasps. His chest is still heaving. Now that he can actually focus on shit going on around him, he realizes how sweaty and messy he is. His hair’s stuck to his forehead.

 

“The Righteous Man summoned an angel of the Lord to his side.” Cas sounds completely unaffected, still. “To pleasure him?”

 

Dean tries a weak smile. “I think I was doin’ an okay job of that by myself, Cas.”

 

Cas’ face, all its angles, just sets itself into a harsher expression. “You attempt humor now? Do you understand what you have done?”

 

Dean figures answering _Almost came, until you showed up_ wouldn’t go over so well.

 

Cas continues. “You have attempted to _use_ a holy creature for the most base of human needs.” He shakes his head. His grip on Dean’s wrists stays tight, but he’s trembling. It’s not fright, Dean can tell. It’s pure, concentrated fury. “It isn’t even a need. You could go without sex for your entire life.”

 

Dean must pull a face at that, because the shaking in Cas’ hands stops, enough that he can push Dean’s hands to the bed and pin them there. “You’re a pathetic creature who doesn’t even want to _consider_ that. If I left you like this, you’d likely return to your previous activities. You need to know the gravity of what you’ve done. I hate to say it, Dean, because I have advocated for you in Heaven. But you need _punishment_.”

 

None of this is in any way making Dean’s erection wilt. “What are you gonna do to me?” he asks. His voice sounds almost tiny. 

 

It seems like an eternity before he speaks again. “Any transgression upon Heaven must be returned tenfold.”

 

“I don’t – I – what –”

 

“You have debased a warrior of Heaven like this, Dean. Using prayers for your personal gratification. Using my image to stimulate your penis.” 

 

Dean twists his head to the side, staring at the motel’s faded yellow walls instead of that _image_ in front of him. “Jesus,” he whispers.

 

“Also not appropriate.” Cas moves one hand from Dean’s wrist to grip his chin between two fingers and wrench it back to stare at him. White energy crackles behind Cas’ eyes.

 

“I – uh, Cas, shit, I’m sorry –”

 

Cas puffs out a dry laugh. “You think that will make up for what you have done?” He catches Dean’s wrist again. Dean didn’t dare move it from when Cas let it go, however briefly. “This is a better start than that. Staying where you are, knowing your place.” 

 

Dean doesn’t respond. He says nothing snarky and he doesn’t move. He just lets Cas hold him in place. His breaths are still heaving, and his dick wavers in a funny way with every gasp he takes. Tension ratchets through the air. It’s always there, between the two of them, but Dean could choke on it right now. Judging by how hazy Cas’ eyes have gone, even as they stare at Dean, he feels it too.

 

He speaks up again, eventually. “Sex is original sin, Dean. Lust is a _demon_ , a _deadly_ sin. You tried to bring an angel to perform a low act, for nothing but simple human pleasure. We have to sanctify it.” 

 

All kinds of crazy shit whirls through Dean’s mind. He can’t even imagine what Cas is going to do to him. He really fuckin’ hopes it’s not going back to Hell, but that isn’t the vibe he’s getting anyway. 

 

Then Cas is shrugging out of his trenchcoat and black suit coat. They land in a heap on the floor of the room. Dean thought maybe he’d look smaller if he lost the baggy clothes, but there’s clearly a broadness to his shoulders, arms, and even his thighs which Dean never really noticed before. Shit, shit, he can’t think about sticking his dick between those babies and rubbing off right there, getting Cas off at the same time, their come smearing together all over their stomachs and dicks… 

 

“All angels, we need _consent_.” Cas thankfully, maybe, interrupts Dean’s thoughts. “I need you to tell me it’s okay to do what we have to do next. I’ll warn you that if you don’t agree, the other angels will have to find a punishment for you. They don’t like you as much as I do.”

 

“You have a weird way of showing it.” 

 

Cas _pushes_ his hands into the bedspread. He doesn’t have very long fingernails, but they still dig half-moons right above his wrist. It _hurts_. That shouldn’t turn him the fuck on, even more. “I normally appreciate your talk, even if I rarely understand it,” he hisses, “but now is not the time.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Dean means it mostly sarcastically, however bad an idea that might be right now, but it comes out genuine. There’s an eons-long pause while he absorbs what he just said, and he swears his dick throbs a couple of times because of it. Cas’ eyes go hazy again, before he blinks them back into focus.

 

“I can’t do anything without your consent. You must say yes before I begin… the ritual.” 

 

“You’re not gonna – kill me?” Dean means it to come out strong. But his voice wavers along the way.

 

Cas looks away, for just a second. “No,” he says, “no. I know I threatened to… throw you back to Hell. That was unfair. I know now I could never do that, Dean.” 

 

Dean meets his eyes full-on then. He relaxes his hands so Cas can really hold them down. “Then yeah,” he says. “Yes. _Yes_ , Cas, yes.”

 

He swears Cas smiles. Just a little. A quirk of the lips for a beat or two before it fades to his usual stony look. 

 

Then he’s reaching for his belt. 

 

“Wha –”

 

“Sex is sin for humans. Not for angels. Anything we do, by definition, it’s holy.” He whips the belt out of its loops, like he’s had practice. The flick of his wrist, Dean _does not_ think about him using it to stripe his ass red and throbbing. “I will make you holy, Dean. I will _fuck_ the sin out of you and bring you back to righteousness.”

 

Oh God. Cas said fuck. He said fuck and Dean’s pretty sure he understands Cas’ meaning and his hand is moving downward and… 

 

“First, I will finish off this unsatisfactory orgasm.” And fuck, fuck, Cas’ hand is on his dick. 

 

Dean doesn’t even have time to appreciate it. Cas jerks him too fast and too hard and too rough, all friction no care, but Dean’s always loved _too rough_. His orgasm takes off like a rocket and steals his breath quick. He empties come all over those beautiful strong fingers.

 

“Fuck! Cas!” Dean arches his back hard enough that only his ass and the back of his head have contact with the bed for a few seconds. “Shit, yeah, _fuck_!” 

 

He opens his eyes to see Cas licking at his fingers. It’s a miracle how good he looks doing that. Dean’s come is _dripping_ from them. “You do taste good,” Cas remarks, way too calm for this situation. Then his fingers are shoved up against Dean’s mouth. Dean feels his own wetness smearing all over his lips, his chin. “Lick it up yourself.” 

 

Dean must hesitate, because Cas _hooks_ his thumb into Dean’s mouth on the side and practically pries it open by the jaw. “If you can’t do something like _this_ there is no point to me even attempting this ritual, Dean,” Cas practically spits. Then his four other fingers are inside Dean’s mouth.

 

He licks himself up. Cas wasn’t wrong, he tastes good. Must not’ve been chowing down on too many burgers lately or drinking too much. The taste is even better against the human salt of Cas’ hands. Cas pushes up what’s on Dean’s chin and cheeks into his mouth and he sucks that off, too. His tongue swirls around and around Cas’ fingers until he’s not chasing his own taste any more. 

 

The blue of Cas’ eyes has gone navy and wide. It’s damn good to have _any_ sort of effect on the guy. _Base lust_ , or whatever the fuck Cas had said, makes it even better.

 

But then Cas hauls Dean up by grabbing the neck of his shirt. He’s pulling him bodily with just one hand, and Dean’s not feeling too smug any more. 

 

Both hands grip the front of Dean’s t-shirt and rip it in fucking half. They pull again and tear it to shreds, along with his flannel. Cas picks up the rags of what’s left and throws them across the room.

 

Dean’s too shocked to say anything, until he manages a, “Cas, fuck! I needed those, I haven’t hustled pool in a while, I need…” 

 

“Money? I truly don’t give a shit about _money_ , Dean, and if we want to talk corrupting human forces it may be even worse than you are.” His tongue licks up Dean’s chest. He doesn’t cross over his nipples, and he’s moving up not downward toward his dick, but it makes Dean pant. If he hadn’t just come buckets, he’d be hard again. Just from one touch of Cas’ tongue. “And you should have thought about any consequences.” 

 

“You’re – yeah, Cas, you’re right,” Dean mutters. Then he does a double-take, because Cas is crawling onto the bed with him.

 

No, he’s _straddling_ him. Straddling him and unzipping his pants and pushing them down. 

 

He looks not unlike Dean did ten minutes ago, Dean would note with some humor, if his entire world hadn’t narrowed down to Cas’ dick. Dean was absolutely right about him; he’s so wide Dean thinks he’s swollen at first, hung like a horse, and smooth save for a few throbbing veins. A perfect fucking cock. 

 

At least, Dean hopes it will be a fucking cock, if he’s being honest with himself.

 

Cas starts making harsh, choked noises as he jerks himself off. He’s going just as hard as he went on Dean, rough passes that shake his hand and wrist after. Dean tries to move his hand to help him out, but Cas casts a look at him. “I have to take care of this myself,” he demands. 

 

Dean leans back and enjoys the view. Precome drools out of Cas’ slit, and some of it drips on Dean’s stomach. Cas is so big and plummy red; his skin is tanner than Dean thought, but still paler than Dean himself is, and his cock’s a beautiful contrast against the rest of his body. Dean’s just sad he won’t get to put it in his mouth or ass or anywhere else fun. 

 

Dean props himself up on his elbows. Cas’ body rubbing against his lap feels so good. He’s still blissed out from his orgasm, soft and pliant in his thighs and groin, but he still moves his hips a little. Just for some pressure. “You gonna come for me?” 

 

Cas casts him a look to level armies. He _shoves_ Dean down again, fully onto his back. “This is _not_ for you to give orders,” he, well, orders. Then he’s clamping his free hand over Dean’s mouth. 

 

Dean _mmmph_ s into it, but Cas doesn’t move it a millimeter. He thinks about licking at his palm, but he’s pretty sure that’d get him smote at this point, even if Cas promised he wouldn’t do anything like that. He got his taste earlier, anyway. 

 

So he falls silent. He lets his eyes take their fill instead. Cas is fucking beautiful, the way his eyes are bright and focused, the way the space above his nose scrunches in concentration when he does this, the way his mouth pops open and shut, the way his jerks are military precision. 

 

The way he shakes and comes.

 

He moans as he does it, and Dean’s somehow not surprised when the moans crescendo into an outright yell. He tilts his hips up and lets the come practically pour out of him. Gravity pulls it onto Dean’s stomach, where it pools in some places and slides around and onto the comforter on the bed in others. 

 

A few beats, and Cas is massaging it into Dean’s skin. Fuck, only the kinkiest girls and guys he’s slept with ever did anything like that. Dean squirms when Cas’ fingers skim his sides but otherwise just goes with it. 

 

Well. _That_ was the hottest thing ever. And Dean still has a lap full of angel, who’s still touching him. 

 

“So – is that – it? Did we, like, was that the ritual?”

 

Cas laughs. A deep, dark chocolate, rolling thunder laugh. Dean’s not sure if that’s a good or bad sign. 

 

“Is that it,” he repeats. He tugs his tie off and undoes the buttons on his own shirt. He’s careful with that, Dean notices, grumpily. “You don’t understand how badly you sinned. You attempted to summon an angel of the Lord to masturbate to him, yes.” 

 

Cas pulls down Dean’s pants and boxers all the way, finally. Thank goodness for small miracles, because he doesn’t tear those, just takes them off his body. He drinks the look of him in. The trail down his body is excruciatingly slow. Cas’ eyes are practically demon-black by now. 

 

“That is bad enough. But it wasn’t _just_ that. We are connected, Dean, you must feel that.”

 

“I – I do, Cas. I do.” Dean’s been trying to fight it. But there’s no point in fighting something he feels with his heart and his soul and his mind and his _dick_ alike. 

 

“We’re bonded. I saved you from Hell. So not only did you try, however unintentionally, to corrupt an angel, you tried to corrupt an angel you’re _bonded_ to. That would be a betrayal unseen for ages. So Dean, we will do _whatever_ we need to do, until your righteous soul entwined with my grace has returned, and undone this horrible sin.”

 

“That means?”

 

Cas has another small smile for him. “For now?” He reaches down and strokes himself again. Dean could swear his hand glows blue, short enough that it fits in the time between blinks, and then Cas fattens up again, hard. He rubs his goddamn beast of a cock against the mess he left on Dean’s stomach, not absorbed in all the way.

 

“Shit…”

 

“Angel, Dean, you forget. I can do whatever I want to this body.” Dean’s hand stretches toward Cas’ dick, but Cas actually smacks it away. Just like in his fantasy, but it’s harder here. Enough to sting, which makes Dean’s gut jolt. “And yours too. Stay on your back. Get on the edge of the bed. Head over the side.”

 

Dean does just that. It’s not the most glamorous position ever. But when Cas looks at him, his eyes are huge. He carefully places a hand on the column of Dean’s neck, stretched long so he can see Cas too.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Yeah?” His voice sounds very tiny. Very far away.

 

He pushes the spongy head of his cock against Dean’s lips. He opens for him, easy, so easy. “Suck my dick.” 

 

Dean’s mouth falls open and closes around the head. He hasn’t done this in a while, hasn’t had the time to get away to hook up with men, and he’s never done it in this position. He used to deep-throat a lot when he was doing this for money, but he’s not gonna risk it with randoms. 

 

But with Cas, it comes back to him so easily. How much he loves it. The salt and heat and weight of it against his tongue. Everything is wet. Cas is going slow for now, but the way Dean’s stuck over the side of the bed… 

 

As if on cue, Cas digs his thumb into the hollow of the base of Dean’s throat, and pushes in just a centimeter, maybe, too deep for Dean. He expects to sputter and choke, and God does he fuckin’ hate how everyone gets off on that these days. He’d never do it to a chick. But instead, his throat relaxes, and he takes Cas deeper.

 

Cas pushes in more. Pulls out, then slowly rolls in again. He’s deeper, he must be deeper because the head of his cock pokes against the base of Dean’s throat. A few more rolls like that and he’s emptying down into that throat. 

 

Dean’s tongue is desperate to collect the last drops when Cas pulls his cock out of his mouth. To say he tastes good is an understatement. Every taste of it makes him hum involuntarily. He wants to rewind time and find some way to get Cas’ come off his stomach, lick it up all for himself.

 

“You’re very good at that,” Cas says. “I can see why you enjoy it so much.”

 

“Thanks.” Dean sits up, breath heaving through him. 

 

“You be quiet now, _slut_.” The word makes Dean gasp, and the room goes dizzy in front of him. Cas wrenches at his hair hard enough to sting. “I am glad to be able to enjoy your expertise, but you’ve brought yourself down like this. I have to continue this until I’ve staked my claim on you.”

 

“What the –”

 

“Righteous Man,” Cas says with a laugh. “At the rate you were going, Michael’s perfect vessel would be too wrecked for him to use. No, you’re not the Righteous Man. But the Whore of Babylon.” 

 

Dean’s face is blazing. The talk humiliates him to his gut. It also _really fucking turns him on_. He’s half-hard again, and his hand snakes down between his legs to fully get him there.

 

“Don’t touch yourself,” Cas hisses, and smacks his hand away. His fingers hit Dean’s dick. Instantly, Dean’s hard again; the impact jolts through his dick and a spurt of precome dribbles through the top. “Oh. Interesting. That hurt you, Dean, but you’re hard again. Why?”

 

Dean ducks his head. He can’t look at Cas when he says this. “My wiring’s all fucked up, Cas,” he gets out. “I’ve always – I get overwhelmed and I – it’s all part of being fucked and used, I guess.” Now he raises his gaze back to Cas. As much of a challenge as he can get away with. “And I _love_ that.” 

 

Cas’ smile in return is a surprise. It’s something like kindness. “I have enjoyed using you so far,” he admits. Then he’s shoving Dean’s shoulders back to the bed, just catching them on the edge, enough for discomfort. “Do you like that? Do you _love_ it?”

 

“Fuck yes, Cas. Fuck!” There’s going to be blue-black finger marks peppered all over Dean whenever this is done. If he can ever masturbate again, he’s going to press his own fingers into those when he gets off.

 

“I’m going to fuck your face now.”

 

Something other than arousal and crazy orgasms weaves its way through Dean. Fear. “Cas, I don’t know if I…”

 

“You’re with me.” He bumps his dick against Dean’s lips a few times. The wetness of it, the firm softness of the head, it feels so good against his abused mouth. “You do what I say. You _absolutely_ can.”

 

Dean obediently opens his mouth, and Cas’ hips start going. Cas fucks his throat before Dean knows what’s happening. 

 

It’s the most arousing sensation of his _life_. He’s so warm and hard in Dean’s mouth, his heartbeat pulse so good against Dean’s tongue. Cas’ balls, heavy with come, smack against Dean’s chin, over and over. He’s so deep inside him. Dean’s taking him so good.

 

He’s never been so fucked (and Cas hasn’t even gone near his ass yet), used, humiliated. Slutty. Degraded. _Orgasmic_.

 

Cas’ hand touches Dean’s throat. The tight grip is good enough. But it’s the sensation of Cas pushing down hard enough until he feels the shape of his own cock, thrusting over and over into the tight wet hole of Dean’s mouth, that makes Dean come.

 

Nothing’s touched his dick, not at all, since Cas smacked it. That can’t hold back the orgasm, and the thought of it makes bliss roll through his limbs and gut. He’s making Cas feel good, so good. That has to count for something. That has to redeem him in some way.

 

“You get off on getting people off,” Cas murmurs, his voice as stuttering as his hips. “I thought so. Well, I’m the perfect one to _fuck_ you, in that case. I could do to your body what I’ve done to my own. Make you come and come and come again. No refractory period, no limit.” 

 

Dean doesn’t know how he manages to keep his head and neck straight, because his hips start fucking the air at just the thought of it. Desperately chasing pressure.

 

Cas splays his hand out over Dean’s stomach, right above his dick. So fast it’d be funny if Dean wasn’t eaten up with _other stimulation_ , at just that touch, his dick is curving up and over Cas’ hand. When Dean orgasms, impossibly, again, that hand ends up coated in it. 

 

Dean wants to scream. In the best way possible. He wants to announce to the world that Castiel officially owns him in any way he wants. He wants a handprint on his _ass_ that reads Property of Castiel. The thought of it wrenches another orgasm from him, something that makes every inch of his body shudder.

 

But all he can do is offer a muffled grunt against Cas’ dick. The noise must do things to Cas, because a torrent of come gushes down into Dean’s throat again. Cas moves as he comes, fucking Dean’s mouth all the way through it. 

 

His sac shoves against Dean’s chin one last time, hard enough to leave a bruise, and Dean comes again. Just the thought of Cas’ big male balls against his face and the bulge Cas pushes into his throat wracks him with orgasm. He spills all over himself, sloppy. His inner thighs are already pale, but now they’re spattered white with come. 

 

Dean belatedly realizes he’s gasping for breath. Cas must have pulled out. Sure enough, he’s standing over him. His cock is still hard, purple-red with arousal, but it’s practically glossy with spit and come all over it now. 

 

“Oh, man,” Dean moans. “Can I kiss you?” 

 

Cas considers it. He traces a thumb over Dean’s slack, useless lips. “Not yet,” he says. “I don’t think you are worthy yet. Very bad things could happen if you tried an act you weren’t worthy of.”

 

Dean ducks his head. “Okay.” He accepts it easy, too easy, but he’d accept anything from Cas right now. He lets Cas scoop him into his arms like he weighs nothing.

 

“You’re worthy of this,” Cas tells him, manhandling him onto his lap until their crotches are pushed together. “May I confess something to you, Dean?”

 

“Not gonna stop you, man.” 

 

“Good.” Cas smiles. Still alien, but almost warm. “You’re learning.” Cas touches his fingers to Dean’s mouth and this time Dean takes them into suckle on them with no complaint. The taste makes his tongue sizzle. “I have been enjoying this so much, Dean. It’s not a sin for an angel to lie with a human if an angel desires it.”

 

“Did you… desire it?” Dean asks, when Cas moves his fingers away. Cas shoves them right back in, and Dean lolls his tongue over them. He thinks of Cas’ fat dick in his mouth, really sucking it and not just letting Cas use his throat like any other hole, and how sweet his come tasted there. It must show on his face, because one eyebrow of Cas’ raises imperiously. 

 

“I never knew what desire was until I gazed upon you, Dean. Your face. Your _body_.” He moves his free hand down to Dean’s ass and _squeezes_ , the flesh thick in his palm. “I saw the world take this glorious, sweet ass. I saw how desperate you were to hide your attraction to men, how badly you want _cock_. I saw your sad desires for anonymous sex. Never the kind of experience I could give to you. You are lucky your pathetic attempted prayer was to me, and not another angel. But, Dean.” He bites Dean’s earlobe, hard enough that Dean’s legs kick out and he yelps. “I was lucky too.” 

 

Then he wraps his enormous hand around their twin erections and starts moving, again. 

 

They come at the same time, just at the contact. The shocks of pleasure are shorter now, a more constant lightning storm inside the two of them, but seeing Cas’ face contorted in bliss, a mirror image of Dean, this one lasts a little longer. The slickness of it eases the way. 

 

“Look at us,” Cas commands. Dean obeys, and he’s shocked that alone doesn’t get him off again. The two of them push wetly against each other. The thick plummy heads catch, and Dean feels the jolt all the way down to his fingertips and toes. They pulse against each other and the shiver from it tiptoes up Dean’s spine.

 

“You’re so big,” Dean gasps. “I knew it.” He grins. “I was _thinking_ about it.” 

 

Cas clamps his hand down at the base of Dean’s dick. Dean expects another orgasm to erupt from his fingers at the harsh touch, but nothing comes. “I can make you come constantly,” he says, a fire in his voice. “Or I can make you _never come again_.”

 

The grin fades. Dean whimpers.

 

Cas touches his face at that, surprisingly gentle. “I don’t plan on that. I promise. But Dean, you must learn. Worship me. You have – to – learn.” He pulls them particularly hard at those words, and comes all over Dean. It slides slowly over his erection, and the sensation – God, Dean wants to come again so bad. He got _addicted_ to the feeling and now he’s so fucking deprived.

 

Cas throws his head back and practically screams. The lights flicker overhead. He’s showing the fuck off, rubbing in what Dean can’t have right now, and Dean doesn’t even care. The sight of it is too good, an angel in the throes of dirty sexual ecstasy. 

 

When he comes down, Cas looks down at the two of them, still pushed together, and smiles. “I’m thicker than you,” he says. “And longer than you.” He lets his fingers rub over the head of his cock, then pushes them into the pocket of Dean’s cheek. Dean’s tongue practically sparks at the taste. “Sooo much bigger than you. I don’t particularly care. But you do.”

 

“You’re so huge,” Dean moans, best as he can, around the fingers in his mouth. “I – shit – I thought my dick was pretty good but not compared to you, Cas. I loooove your dick. You’re like a fucking – ten-inch _Coke can_ , it’s amazing.” 

 

Cas gives him something like a Mona Lisa smile. “Do you love it as much as your _vibrator_?”

 

Cas’ hand stops entirely. Dean – he does not _squeak_. “My – what?” he asks, trying to play dumb. And that’s the dumbest idea of all.

 

Almost bored, Cas holds up his hand. The vibrator was buried what Dean thought was pretty deep in his bag, but it’s in Cas’ palm instantly. Long and blue and pretty as ever. “Did you think this was me when you _fucked_ yourself?” 

 

Dean nods. He bites his lip. “Yeah, Cas. I did.”

 

“Did it feel as good as this? I don’t even have my penis inside you yet.”

 

Cas saying _penis_ shouldn’t be outrageously hot. Dean feels like if Cas wasn’t holding him back, he’d be ruddering his way through another orgasm, just from the sound of that word out of his mouth. “No.” There’s been a lot of nodding and shaking his head.

 

“I am going to open you up with this,” Cas declares, “and then I’m going to show you the real thing. This plastic toy is a pathetic imitation. It can’t do to you what I can.”

 

“N-no, it can’t.”

 

But when Cas turns it on to the highest setting instantly and shoves it into Dean’s hole, it’s still pretty good. Scratch that, _fucking amazing_. “Oh God, oh God,” Dean whines, hips twisting back and forth. His entire lower half is buzzing. He still can’t come, but clear liquid gurgles from his slit. His erection juts in front of him, impossibly hard, impossibly red, shaking with the vibration.

 

“Do not say that,” Cas snarls. The vibrator punches in again, pushed right up against Dean’s sweet spot. His big, fat, sensitive prostate. He gets off from fingering, he gets off from rimming, he gets off untouched from someone fucking him, because of that glorious spot.

 

But now, Cas holding his orgasm back, something ripples and rolls constantly over Dean’s prostate, and he can’t do anything but clutch desperately at the air. He cries, tears dripping off his chin. Cas does nothing more than push the vibrator in further, until there’s no give left. 

 

Dean spreads his legs wider than he thought they could ever go. Maybe Cas is helping him with that, too. But he just lets him fuck him with the dildo, over and over. He’s so loose, already just a piece of meat for Cas to use. He hates it, he loves it. He can’t imagine how he looks, from his heaving chest to his fluttering open hole. But he hopes it’s a pretty picture, hopes for the sake of himself and his dick.

 

“You can really take it,” Cas remarks. Dean thinks the dildo’s gone. His entire body’s in such a state of suspended animation, his hole and dick and balls throb so hard, he can’t really be sure.

 

“S’what I’m good at.”

 

“You will be good at taking it from me, and no one else.” Cas sounds almost furious at that again, and he’s glaring all the way when he arranges Dean into a fairly familiar position. On his hands and knees. “I am going to _mount_ you, Dean, _claim_ you. You’re _mine_.” 

 

The words put a shiver through him.

 

Cas continues. “I know you,” he says. “And I know you don’t like this position. You find it too impersonal. But the people you fuck, they don’t get the view I do. Your cock, red and pretty for me. This space.” He pats his perineum, pushes in on it. Dean cries out and bucks forward until Cas catches him. “So sensitive.” He flicks his tongue there, just once, and Dean collapses. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Dean gasps, scrambling back to his hands and knees. The bedspread was just putting harsh friction on his dick anyway.

 

“You should be.” Cas pauses for a beat or two. “And your hole.” He swirls his finger around. “You’re tight, Dean, despite how much you love to get fucked. It keeps opening and closing for me, mmm. I _love_ your hole.” Dean feels Cas’ fat cockhead nudging at his entrance; he holds his breath. “I think I’ll let you come now. I want to feel you coming on my cock.” 

 

Cas pushes in and they’re fucking. They’re having sex. Cas is having sex with him, forcing Dean into the most base, messy, humiliating things two human bodies could do in bed, and Dean loves every minute of it. They’ve barely started with dicks in asses and Cas already sent him to another plane of embarrassment, heat, arousal, orgasm. No one will ever, ever feel as good as Dean does right now. 

 

Most people pause, give him time to adjust, but not Cas. He’s all the way in, just one thrust. Dean doesn’t just feel full, he feels _stuffed_ , and the glorious-uncomfortable sensation makes him finally orgasm again. Ropes of come land all over the pillow in front of him, thick and wet, and Dean can hardly concentrate on them for how good he feels. He’s floating, floating, rolling away, the ocean’s swallowing him up. No, not an ocean. Just Castiel.

 

Before he’s even finished one thrust, Cas completes inside of him. Save the couple of blessed, kinky girls who brought out the strap-ons, Dean’s never had someone fuck him without a condom before. The warm gush of it is a shock that makes Dean come dry. A few drops land on his oversensitized and quivering thighs when Cas pulls all the way out, only to shove back in again. 

 

Getting fucked is always amazing. There’s the usual sensations that fire off beautiful synapses inside his head, the pressure, the quick flip between pleasure and pain. But with Cas, it’s an entirely different experience. Every minute twitch of their bodies, the tight slick clench of Dean’s ass or every heartbeat through Cas’ dick, he feels it. It sets his body alight. His mind floats off somewhere, even as Dean desperately tries to keep it tethered here. He can’t miss a millisecond of this. He can’t.

 

Cas’ pace is brutal now. He fucks Dean so hard Dean feels it in his _tonsils_. His big fucking balls, gorgeous sharp hips, they smack Dean’s ass with every thrust. He comes all the way out and heaves back inside, rippling sensations through both himself and Dean. The headboard slams against the wall, an angry noise, but it might as well be silent to Dean’s ears in comparison to their heaving breaths, the wet sound coming from where they’re joined. 

 

Dean’s really woozy, but sort of aware of Cas’ hands coming up from his hips and pulling his ass open at the cheeks. Cas stares at the point of their meeting, the sweet place his dick slides into over and over again. 

 

“We look beautiful, united together,” Cas says. His voice is reverent. “Your hole, it keeps trying to hold me inside you. This is what you were meant to be. You’re a fucking slut but you’re _my_ slut. You will writhe pathetically on your bed but only when _I_ am there. You’re mine. For me. I saved you and I will save you again.” 

 

Dean’s so blissed out. His face is against the pillow now and his own come smears against his cheek with every thrust and he doesn’t give a shit. Cas’ words make him come again, it shooting far enough to hit his chest and chin. 

 

Cas speaks again, as he moves his hands to rub Dean’s come into his skin. Onto his _face_. He’s a sticky mess. Normally he’d be running for the shower, but he’s way too pliant and loose to give a shit about anything but the enormous dick in his ass. “You’ve anointed yourself enough.”

 

“Mmm, yeah,” Dean murmurs, the last words he gets out before Cas scoops up the rest of the come he can find and lets Dean suck it off his fingers. Cas fucks him through Dean’s sucking, and when he comes twice on Cas’ cock pushing right against his prostate, Dean’s moan in return makes Cas’ whole wrist shake.

 

When Cas moves their positions, Dean just goes with it. He’ll take anything from him, do anything for him. He ends up bent over the tiny table in the room, ass out. That’s his favorite position for the impersonal pounding kind of shit he usually gets. Lets the other guy get a real good angle, lots of leverage. 

 

But Dean’s not usually already gone what feels like ninety rounds with the other guy. And even if he ever had, he’s pretty sure it wouldn’t feel like a crackling firework in his gut every time that guy touched him.

 

Cas jerks Dean until he burbles come all over his fingers, wet and sloppy again. He uses it to keep pumping Dean as he absolutely fucks the shit out of him. Dean’s never been with anyone or anything like Cas, and he knew a real kinky chick with a Chinese chair in New Orleans. 

 

There should be no way a human could take Cas’ jackrabbit thrusts. His harsh pulls, enough that Dean yelps on every other pass. There should be no way Dean still comes, comes and comes and comes again. But it’s all happening. And thank God for that.

 

No, thank Cas. 

 

Dean’s lost count of how many times they’ve come together. Their orgasms practically wrap around each other now, one of them coming causing the other to spiral high and follow over the edge. The table and the floor underneath are a mess with it. 

 

“Do you feel me dripping out of you, Dean?” Cas asks, after five more heaves. He exhales a hot breath against Dean’s neck and erupts inside him again. Dean doesn’t even know how he’s feeling Cas’ orgasms any more, and the way every one of them re-coats his insides, but he’s so goddamn grateful. His mind’s buzzing on another plane right now. “Do you feel my seed inside your ass, marking you?” 

 

“Y-yes, oh Cas, I’ve never felt like this, I never…” He shoots all over the table. Cas bends him down even harder after that, and Dean stains his hands in his own release. 

 

“You’re so wet,” Cas continues, every word punctuated by the snap of his hips. “Wet like a _girl_.” Dean comes again at the word _girl_ , spooging onto the seat of the chair. It couldn’t have been thirty seconds. 

 

Cas fucks him sharp and exact, fifteen times, before he skims his hand across Dean’s stomach. “I’m so big, you’re made just for me. I can feel myself here, _fucking_ you.”

 

Distantly, Dean’s pretty sure anatomy doesn’t work that way. But he’s also sure everything else about tonight has been ridiculous, so he will fuckin’ roll with it. “Your big fuckin’ dick,” he breathes. “Puttin’ me to shame. Puttin’ the world to shame. No one could ever fuck me like this.”

 

“And no one ever will.” Cas growls and slides his hands over Dean’s hips. The way you reacted when I said _girl_ , I think you wish you were that, sometimes. Do you want that, Dean? Do you want to be a _girl_?”

 

Dean sees no point in lying. “Yes,” he gasps. 

 

“Mm.” Cas’ dick punches into Dean a couple of times, and then a flurry of words come out of his mouth. “Lots of advantages for you, I think. I know about the panties thing.”

 

“Fuck,” Dean moans. That’s his biggest secret, at least until this fuckfest with an angel that he is never telling a goddamn _soul_ about. “Yeah.”

 

“A shame I don’t have time to dress you up in those. Maybe I’ll put you in a skirt when you’re ready for it. Nothing underneath, just you and your hole, all ready for me. You’d keep yourself always stretched and ready and open for me. Your cock stays soft until I am with you. That _belongs_ to me.” 

 

“Fuck. Yes. Yours, Cas.” 

 

“Imagine, you as a woman.” Cas somehow pounds him harder. “You’d have an excuse to fuck men – apologies, _let men fuck you_. You prefer it anyway.”

 

“I do. I do.” Dean scrabbles his come-covered hand back, grabs at Cas’ huge hand. That Cas lets him hold on feels like the most incredible thing that’s happened so far tonight.

 

“You love breasts and you love your nipples. _I_ love your nipples. You would love _having_ breasts.” 

 

“I would. Fuck!” He pictures Cas’ hands over tits too large for even them, squeezing. In his mind’s eye, he sees Cas’ eyes flicked up toward him as his lips suck on Dean’s fat nipples, and that spasms another orgasm through his body.

 

“And I’ve seen how much you love pussy,” Cas whispers, voice quivering. “You get this wet and slick in your ass, imagine your cunt. You love my fingers?”

 

“Fuck yes.” Those gorgeous warm fingers dig into Dean’s hips, pressure enough to darken the skin underneath where he pushes. 

 

“Imagine them on your clit. For hours, Dean, would you ever leave the room?”

 

“Noooo,” Dean moans out. His cheek is pressed to the cool, wet surface of the table now. It’s a good contrast against his boiling skin. “It loves you, my body, it loves you. It wants you so bad. Please keep fucking me, please.” The legs of the table squeak with every word as the two of them heave against it.

 

“If you were a girl, I could fuck you until you were _pregnant_. Some of the other angels, they say not to waste seed if it’s not for procreation.” Only Cas could make the word _procreation_ wildly hot, but every syllable sucker-punches Dean. “I see the appeal. Fucking you until this belly of yours is swollen with what we’ve created together.” Cas rubs a hand over it. His palm and splayed fingers cover what must be half of Dean’s stomach. “You, so fecund, just for me.” Cas’ dick shudders inside him. Another orgasm. Just at the thought of it.

 

This is going _weird places_. But Dean’s going with it, like he has everything else. “Please, fuck, I want it so bad,” he finds himself yowling. It’s not even a lie. 

 

“You’d take everything from me.”

 

“Anything you want!” 

 

“I could turn you into a girl, if you wanted,” Cas continues. Thank God, his voice wavers while he does it, because Dean doesn’t think he could take the metronome calm. “I don’t think you could be prettier than you are now, though.”

 

 _Pretty_. That’s the word. Dean comes again, dry but enough to make his ass clench down on Cas’ dick. And of course, Cas comes right in return. Dean’s inner thighs are sopping. 

 

“Your tits, though, it’s something to think about.” He reaches his hands all the way up and tugs Dean’s nipples until he starts sobbing. “I know you love these already. And with a cunt, I wouldn’t even have to use my powers on you. You could come again and again and again, all night.” 

 

“I’m – Cas, it’s so good –”

 

“Probably wouldn’t even get to fuck you like this, because I’d stay between your legs. For hours, Dean. My mouth on your clit, lapping all your juices up. My tongue in your hole.” 

 

He pauses, then pulls out of Dean. Dean frantically glances behind him. Cas’ legs are just as streaked with come as his; a sheen of it coats his cock entirely.

 

“I think I’ll do that now,” Cas says, decisively. “I’m going to eat you out like the pretty, bad girl you are, Dean. You’re going to come on my tongue.” 

 

Dean knows what’s coming. He bends back over the table while Cas crouches down. Cas kisses the back of his thighs, flicks his tongue over the sensitive spot where leg meets ass.

 

Then, with no further ado, he spreads Dean’s ass apart by the cheeks and swirls his tongue, over and over, across the rosebud hole.

 

Dean cries out and comes dry at the first touch there. A moan reverberates through his ass, a splash on his ankle, and he knows Cas is coming too. 

 

“Your hole missed me,” Cas muses, breath skidding over oversensitized skin. “I was only gone for a few seconds, mmm.” 

 

“Can I move my hands?” Dean asks. 

 

“You asked permission, good. Yes.” 

 

Dean reaches behind him to hold himself open. His cheeks heat supernova hot at the feel of it, completely exposed. The humiliation wracks him and he comes again, crying out and rubbing his stomach against the chair.

 

But his hands, his hands stay steady. Stay pushed over his asscheeks, pulling them apart so Cas has the view he needs. He deserves. Part of Dean wants to stay like this always, loose and open and ready for Cas to get his sweet mouth and clever tongue up _inside_ him. 

 

“Cas, please,” Dean begs. 

 

Cas bites the dimples at the small of Dean’s back, a shock that has him shuddering and coming. And then Cas gets on his knees – so wrong for an angel, so dirty, so beautiful – and _devours_ Dean at his center.

 

Dean’s impaled on his tongue. There are no careful licks now, just wet swipes meant to get him dripping and spiral sensation through his belly and groin. It works, it works so well, Cas is right, he’s a fucking girl with how _wet_ he is for him. Cas spears the point of his tongue and fucks into Dean over and over, lapping up his walls. Oh God, Cas must be tasting his own come everywhere. It must be running down his chin.

 

Dean comes at the thought, the vision in his mind. Cas moves a hand forward to scoop what’s left up and ease it into Dean’s hole. His tongue goes flick-flick-flick over the pucker, darting like a snake, and Dean pushes his hips back with every movement because it feels so good. 

 

He swears Cas’ tongue actually _corkscrews_ inside him, turning over and over and making him a sobbing mess. 

 

Dean makes noises that he thinks are words. There’s a lot of _fuck_ and _Cas_ and _please. Please, please, please!_. He’s distantly aware tears are dropping onto the table now.

 

“You taste like both of us,” Cas says, right into Dean’s ass. The way he talks, it rumbles against Dean’s perineum, and Dean quivers from it and spills from his cock time and time again. “You should. You will carry me within you for the rest of your days. You are anointed by me and no one can remove it, no shower can wash that off you. You were impossibly dirty, base and low, and now you are clean before this warrior of Heaven.” 

 

“Tell me I’m good,” Dean heaves. He tastes salt in his mouth, and it’s not (just) come. “I shouldn’t – shouldn’t ask for a damn thing, but please. I need it.”

 

“You did an incredible job.” Cas pushes Dean’s hands back up, then uses his own big palms to keep Dean open. His horrible, wonderful tongue slides into Dean’s hole three times before he speaks again. “You have taken not just the wrath of Heaven but its bliss, tenfold.”

 

Cas stands up and Dean does not _whimper_ at him leaving his hole needy and clenching, hungry for fingers or tongue or that cock.

 

Of course, this is when Cas takes the opportunity to wrench Dean’s head forward and smash their mouths together. Their first kiss.

 

It’s a wild thing, a holy creature, something with a mind of its own. Dean’s willing to just go with it. Cas is firmly in charge, like he has been the rest of the night, and if he wants their teeth to scrape together enough to make Dean jump a little every time it happens, Dean’s going with it. If Cas wants to hold Dean’s head back and fuck his tongue into his mouth, Dean’s going with it. If Cas wants to break away from Dean’s mouth and bite his neck hard enough Dean wonders if Cas isn’t an angel at all, but a vampire, Dean’s going with it.

 

Cas’ teeth break the skin of his shoulder and Dean dribbles down his thigh again. His dick’s not even deflating any more; he’s constantly hard.

 

“Ass to mouth, huh,” Dean manages to get out. Sounds like someone wrung his voice like a dirty washcloth.

 

Cas doesn’t say anything in return. He just moves whip-fast to bend Dean over the table again. His hand comes down on Dean’s lower asscheek, one hard crack after another. It seems fuckin’ impossible, but the impact throbs harder than any other part of his body.

 

“I – said – no – smart – mouth,” Cas snaps. Every word’s punctuated with a smack. Dean thinks he comes at least twice in the spanking. Maybe three times. “No matter how well you did, I am not a fan of human sarcasm.” Cas spreads Dean’s cheeks, again, and stares down. Without touching Dean, just at the sight of it, he orgasms. Dean’s hole, it must be a mess. It must be beautiful. “Human punishment, however…”

 

Cas spits, _hard_ , and Dean feels the saliva land against his asshole and drip, slowly. Must take years. Dean feels the slow slide of it, every millimeter of movement. Anticipation swirls between his legs. 

 

Cas spits on him again. It’s so humiliating. That totally explains why he rubs his ass backwards against Cas’ big fingers, pushing the spit back into Dean’s hole. 

 

Dean doesn’t expect two of Cas’ fingers to whip him there, abrupt. “Ohfuck,” Dean gasps out, and stumbles against the table again. His knees can’t support him any more. He just hugs the surface and holds on. 

 

 _Smack! Smack! Smack!_ Sometimes Cas varies the rhythm. Sometimes he’s consistent, _too_ consistent. Either way, Dean’s body convulses, a live wire. A constant synapse eruption. 

 

He’s sobbing when Cas pulls him up and kisses him again. It’s almost slow. It’s definitely heated.

 

“You enjoyed my cock too much,” Cas says, when he finally pulls back.

 

“Who wouldn’t –”

 

Dean shuts up at the glare Cas casts him. “You’re going to have to prove to me that you can take it back.” 

 

In the space between one breath and another, Cas has something in his hand. It’s not a dildo, or a vibrator. It’s long and shiny and silver. His _sword_.

 

Dean blinks hard. “Uh, Cas… you said you wouldn’t…”

 

“Trust me, Dean,” Cas breathes, and Dean has never done anything more in his entire life. He turns around, looks over his shoulder, and nods at Cas, carefully.

 

Then the hilt of the blade is pushing into him. 

 

“Oh my –” Dean shoves his hand over his mouth before he can let out the _God_. The metal is cold like it’s been in the freezer for a couple of hours, the craziest sensation against his overheated insides. He erupts at just that touch.

 

“Seems you don’t mind it,” Cas says. Dean can hear the very unangelic smirk.

 

“N-no sir,” Dean moans. Cas pulls his sword all the way out before he shoves it back in. It’s too blunt, too smooth, shorter than Cas’ dick. It doesn’t twist and flick like his tongue. Not warm and throbbing and constantly coating his insides with wet come. 

 

Dean’s getting the fuck off on this anyway. 

 

Cas pumps it into and out of Dean’s hole for a few minutes. Then, he frowns at it, and pulls it out. Carefully, he rubs his own dick against the hilt too, shoving his slit against the blunt edge. He grunts as he orgasms, and come drips down the sword, messing up its perfect luster. It looks amazing now.

 

When Cas fucks the sword back into Dean, it’s warmer. It’s wet and goes so easy. Cas must find the extra inch, because the end just barely skims his prostate. Dean remembers that end, that’s where Cas’ dick smeared its wetness just a few seconds ago, and he goes _uh_ , desperate, and comes again. He comes on the next pass, too.

 

“Good, Dean, you’re doing good now,” Cas murmurs. He pumps the sword into Dean, artificially slowly. “You’ve taken the most precious instrument of a soldier of Heaven.” He shoves it inside Dean, and the way it hits his prostate makes the orgasm flow through Dean, come dripping from his dick. “I even think it likes you.” 

 

“It’s amazing…” Dean sounds really fucking high. Like those couple of times he got the _good_ weed.

 

Cas smiles, pulls the sword all the way out, and carefully pats Dean’s hole. “I’ll show you something amazing, my _bitch_ ,” he says, one last full-palm spank to Dean’s entire ass on the last word. 

 

Dean comes, the hard ripple of it bending him in half, before Cas’ hand is even off his ass.

 

Cas takes his blade back. His grip is still steady on it despite the wet smears streaked on the hilt, God. Cas moves it toward his own body and Dean cringes, but all Cas does is slice a skinny red dash right above one of his nipples, slashing through the freckle right above it. Shining blue smoke curls out of the cut, dissolving in the air.

 

“Taste me, Dean,” Cas commands, fisting Dean’s hair and pushing it toward his chest. 

 

“Wh-what? No –”

 

Cas spanks his hip and Dean wavers with the hit. “You know what your brother is up to.”

 

“I don’t – want to think about –”

 

“That I understand. But demon blood is powerful, Dean. Intoxicating. _Imagine_ the blood of an angel, a creature far more powerful than a lowly demon.”

 

Dean’s mouth isn’t open, but Cas has now fully forced his face onto his chest. He uses the hand in his hair to rub Dean’s mouth back and forth, back and forth. Cas yanks his head back after a few passes.

 

“Barely made your lips any redder. You just look like a vampire now. A creature I could truly have my way with, smite –”

 

It’s the smiting talk that makes Dean finally put his mouth on the cut and lap at it, tongue greedily lapping it up. “Oh _fuck_ ,” Dean mutters against Cas’ chest as the effects of the blood hit his body simultaneously. Cas’ blood puts a sweet song through every synapse. His cock happily jolts and spasms as he comes, harder than he has in a while.

 

“That’s it,” Cas murmurs, almost gentle. “That’s it. All mine, you take it.”

 

When Cas finally lets Dean pull back, Dean feels fucking drunk. If he was on the good weed before, this is like drugs that haven’t been invented yet. The world swims around him, colors like paint that hasn’t dried yet. Distantly, Dean’s aware of Cas slicing a cut on his finger, holding it up. 

 

So obedient, Dean darts his mouth out to catch the drops of blood that fall from him. When they fall on his tongue, the sensations bloom through his body. He finds himself lapping it up, Cas pushing into and out of his mouth with his finger. _He’s fucking me, he’s fucking me like this_ , Dean thinks, and comes again. 

 

Cas scoops Dean’s latest release up and pushes it into his mouth. The salt of the blood and the – at this point – water of his come, red and white against Cas’ tan fingers and Dean’s pink swollen lips. Dean’s tongue whips over his palm, over and over, a wild dance. The two of them taste so good. So right.

 

Until Cas suddenly pulls his hand away. Dean makes an undignified noise and gropes his own hands out, trying to get balanced. 

 

“No need for balance,” Cas says. It sounds very far away, underwater, in a screaming wind tunnel. He’s arranging Dean exactly how he likes; Cas locks Dean’s hips on the bed, and pulls at his back until he’s sitting fully upright. “You have me to hold you up. That’s what you _need_.”

 

Cas practically whips one of Dean’s legs around his waist, and then he’s fucking him again. Dean offers up a sigh that turns into a choked-off moan when Cas slides home. Cas’ huge cock punches through to Dean’s prostate with every thrust, and Dean could swear fireworks sparkle in front of him.

 

“Ride me, Dean, bounce on my _dick_ ,” Cas commands, and Dean’s doing it, instantly. His hips see-saw like he’s never done before, inhuman speed. “Good, look at you. Amazing. You’ll fucking take it, take anything.”

 

“Ohhhh, fuuuuck,” Dean moans. He tilts his head back and Cas makes an absolute feast of his neck. Dean thinks of the big circles of toothmarks he’ll have all over him tomorrow, the bruises, the sticky patches that will in no way wash off in the shower because there’s so _much_ coating him. He comes and it rubs together against both their stomachs.

 

“I want to try something.”

 

“Yeah, Cas. You said it, I’ll do anything.” 

 

Cas slaps the side of Dean’s face, hard. Enough that stars swim in front of his vision. Dean spills out between them again. Twenty seconds between orgasms? Ten? Time doesn’t mean a whole lot to him right now. 

 

“I thought so. You’re all bred up for me. You’ll take anything from me.” 

 

“I will, I will –” Another slap shuts him up. Dean’s lips are a swollen mess he can’t close. His face is shiny with come and sweat alike. He’s going to be red and bruised for days. 

 

Cas’ palm whacks across his face again. “You stopped moving, Dean. Is this not _good_ for you?”

 

“Amazing, it’s amazing,” Dean gasps as he starts grinding down on the huge dick inside him again. Gravity spears Cas right against his prostate, and the two of them come together. Then the gush of Cas’ still-thick come against his sweet spot makes him orgasm twice in a row.

 

Cas holds Dean’s chin in place and slaps him again. Slaps him harder with the back of his hand right after. “So fucking responsive like this,” he says, in a quieter voice than brutalizing Dean’s face five times in only a couple of minutes (maybe? time’s pretty fucked right now) deserves. 

 

Dean keeps bouncing. Impossible animal noises escape his throat and Cas’ at every twin thrust of their hips. He throws his head back in wild abandon, and Cas lowers his mouth to his nipples and bites. Hard. 

 

“Ow! Fuck!” Dean yells. Cas looks up at him in alarm, which is fuckin’ funny after everything else. “No, don’t stop! I can take it! I’m your fucking whore, Cas, do what you want to me! Use me! This is all I exist for!” 

 

“Yes,” Cas purrs back, obviously pleased. 

 

Cas slaps Dean’s face one more time, right across his cheek. Dean’s amazed Cas isn’t breaking teeth, he’s going so hard. Dean could swear the world swims black, but when he comes back to reality, or whatever the hell this is, Cas has Dean’s hips in both hands and is moving Dean’s body. 

 

Cas is the one responsible for the slide of his own cock. Dean’s body’s relaxed into a heavy state of exhaustion, like a sack of goddamn potatoes, but he moves so easy with just Cas’ palms touching him, feather-light. 

 

“Take it, take me, cockslut. You cannot even fuck yourself on me properly,” Cas snarls, heaving him up and down up and down. There are already deep red marks on his skin from the way Cas’ fingers dig in at his fleshy hips. “Of course you were made for me. Only a little time with my big cock and you’re _gone_. You are _useless_.” 

 

Dean bursts into tears. 

 

It’s not an unhappy moment. Quite the opposite. It’s the kind of crying that only comes when every good goddamn sensation on this earth lives inside you, when someone knows exactly what you want and hands it to you on a platter. His cheek still smarts with the slaps of Cas’ beautiful hands and his ears ring with his words. Dean’s fucked, he’s used, his body is a quivering mass and he’s loved every on-fire second of it. He’s _made_ for Cas. 

 

“Are you alright?” Cas asks. There’s alarm in his voice.

 

“Fuuuckin’ great,” Dean slurs. “It feels too good, that’s why –”

 

Cas spanks his face. It’s – it’s sweet that he waited to see if Dean was okay before doing that. “Mine,” he snaps out again. His fingers come away wet, not with come but tears. He licks them off.

 

“I’m good,” Dean babbles, watching Cas’ tongue flick so pink around his fingers. “I’m good, I’m soooo good. You’re right, Cas, all I need is your cock. All I need is _you_.”

 

“I love you,” Cas says, with a fierce tenderness that snatches Dean’s breath and makes him come alike. The orgasm’s stronger than his have been the past couple of times; it’s an orgasm that uncoils the tension rolling through his gut and lets him mold further into Cas’ hands. Dean is just so much human clay. Cas will make him and unmake him as he pleases. “I do. I love you.” 

 

It’s a weird time for love confessions, but. “I love you, Cas.” The words come out so simply when there are no barriers between them. Cas throbs in his ass, hard as a fist clenching and unclenching, as he spills over. God, the things they’ve done to each other. “I love you, I love you,” Dean sobs, as Cas picks him up by the ass. As he maneuvers him right against the wall. “Ohhhh, fuck.” 

 

Whatever this wall’s painted with, it’s cheap as shit. Flakes off against his ass with every thrust. It rubs the blades of his shoulders and the meat of his ass raw. And Dean doesn’t care, not as long as Cas keeps _impaling_ him. He wraps his legs around Cas’ waist and holds the fuck on for the ride.

 

The angle’s incredible. Some girls used to say this was fun, getting fucked practically through the wall, but it wasn’t a position Dean could hold for more than a few minutes. He was pretty ripped from his lifestyle, so Dean couldn’t imagine who could. 

 

An angel, that’s who. The angel who pins him against the wall and moves Dean’s hips hard against it. The angel who fucks him so rough to make Dean’s ass a bruised, gaping mess, and punches his monster cock against his prostate with every grind. The angel that said _I love you_ and meant it.

 

There’s a sharp knock on the door. Dean barely hears it and Cas keeps thrusting through it. “Sir, are you alright?” It’s the voice of the lady at the front desk. She’d seemed pretty hot at the time. Dean had _no idea_.

 

“Fine,” Cas snarls. “Amazing. Best I’ve ever been.” It’s not a lie.

 

“Okay… let me know if you need anything else.” She doesn’t sound convinced. But there’s the sound of footsteps headed away from his room.

 

“I silenced the room. She won’t bother us again,” Cas says. Then he licks Dean’s ear and starts talking directly into it, dark and dirty. “I regret that I had to pay attention to anyone else when you are like _this_. But still, I should have let her in.” Dean shivers and it jolts out through the head of his cock, more come letting Cas pump his hips faster and faster. “You’d love people seeing this.”

 

“Fuck. Yes. I want everyone to see me like this.” 

 

“I’d never touch anyone who isn’t you, but oh, Dean, you’d want me to fuck her too so you could watch. You’d be jealous of her on my cock, not me fucking her, I know it, too.” With every word, Cas slaps another thrust into Dean’s body.

 

“I would,” Dean babbles. He’s really picturing it now, his skin girl-soft, curves everywhere. No dick and sopping wet for Cas on his own, always ready to go, able to come more than once even without freaky angel powers annihilating his refractory period. He thinks it’d be as good, only because it can’t possibly be better.

 

“Don’t you think she’d enjoy it more? My penis is so much bigger than yours, Dean, you said it yourself. Longer. When’s the last time a woman came on just your cock?” He looks down at Dean, arching an eyebrow. He never lets a partner leave without a good time, and he’s good at getting ‘em off other ways, but yeah, that hasn’t happened in a while. 

 

“Not for a, uh.” He can barely speak. Words take what seems like hours to get out. “Long time.”

 

“I knew it. I would rub my cock all over her clit and she would spasm around me. But you do that too, and you do it better. Are you my girl, Dean? My _good_ girl?” 

 

“Yes! Fuck!” Any _girl_ talk sets him off again, the humiliation of it dizzying his head. He thunks it back against the wall and lets it smack him, over and over. It should hurt; he’s probably halfway to a concussion. Most monsters don’t toss him around as hard as Cas does and they’re not _using_ him as the greedy little fuckhole he is. But oh, God, the pain of it only blossoms into orgasm after orgasm. 

 

“See, Dean, you were meant for me anyway. You see the way I’m so hard for you? The way I have my _come_ all over you?” He orgasms again at that. The floor’s a mess; specks of drywall and come are splattered all over it. Dean’s back shoves against the wall, again and again. “Think I’d leave the door open after that.”

 

“Fuck.” Dean thinks of the whole motel seeing him like this, and comes harder than he has in a while.

 

“You’re so easy, Dean, still so slutty. That woman would be fun for both of us but I’d hope a lot of men come here too. Tell me how you prefer it.”

 

“I wanna fuck men soooo bad,” Dean slurs out. “Not fuck. Get fucked. Two or three at once. Get on my knees and suck ‘em off.” He loves that, the strain in his thighs when he kneels, the hot male smell of a cock right in his face, orgasm spilled onto his tongue and spread all over his mouth. The fantasy, though, it could only ever be Cas’ dick now. 

 

“I love it when I blow guys and they come all over my face,” Dean confesses. “But – uh –” Cas nails his prostate particularly hard on the new pass, and he comes again. It’s practically a dribble. Makes him feel inferior to Cas’ still-strong gushes, coating his insides every other grind, but the inferiority just mixes up with the humiliation until another shudder rushes through him. “I don’t need _men_ when I have _you_.”

 

“Good. As long as you don’t corrupt me, Heaven doesn’t mind, Dean. Those men, they’d all fuck you. Your hole is so good, your mouth so amazing, it seems unfair that it’s only _mine_ now. Your mouth, your ass, all of your skin, for their use.”

 

“Please keep talking,” Dean moans. He’s coming on what must be every fourth word, dribbling all over Cas’ hands, smearing between their stomachs. 

 

“Their use,” Cas continues, “but not for them. Because you’re mine where it really matters. You could never come with them, not like this. Not where you’re _covered_ in your spend and mine. You want so much sex, Dean, but you only belong to _me_.”

 

“I’m yours!” Dean sobs. 

 

“You will never have another cock.” Cas finally moves him off the wall only to shove him onto the bed. He doesn’t even stop fucking him while they move. Dean’s lucky he’s lucid enough to look down and see his hips thrusting against Cas’ cock before another gush of come obscures where they’re joined. “I know you want it. But you spread your legs for me. Only me.” 

 

“Yes! Fuck!” Cas hitches Dean’s leg all the way over his shoulder. It should be impossible, Dean doesn’t bend that way. But Cas just does whatever the fuck he wants with him.

 

“You want more cock, though. Not because I’m not enough but because you are _insatiable_.”

 

“I want it so bad.” Dean finally gets a good view of Cas like this. His chest shines with exertion. His face is dripping. He’s impossibly handsome in this body, and hot and wild enough to tear a city down. 

 

“I can help, Dean. You’re mine and I want to help you. I need to save you.” There’s a few seconds of delay, and then the vibrator’s back in Cas’ hand.

 

And then it’s inside Dean’s ass. Pushed alongside Cas’ cock; they slide together with every pass.

 

“Oh! Fuck!” Dean screams. The stretch is a constant burn. He shouldn’t be taking this, nobody should; there was enough of a hitch when Cas pushed the shaft of the vibrator inside that he isn’t pulling all the way out of Dean’s body any more, just grinding his hips so his cock pushes up and down the tight slick tube of Dean’s ass. But with his legs spread, Cas there with him, he accommodates. This is what Cas wants for his body so it’s what Dean wants too.

 

It’s the most amazing thing he’s ever felt, tied with everything else so far tonight. His entire body shudders with vibration, and it leaks out the head of his cock. Dean’s not sure if Cas’ cock, or the vibrator, keeps hitting his prostate, but something firm bounces pressure against it. 

 

Dean’s hips arch up. And then he’s constantly coming, thrusting his own hips back and forth as hard as Cas is. Every time they move together, it’s another hard smack. The noises they make flip into guttural groans, the sort of shit Dean hears in the night that makes him get the Colt out. But now it’s coming from his own throat, and the mouth of the creature that fucks him. The bed’s frame creaks, threatening to break. 

 

At some point, Dean notices woozily, hardly able to process anything but his constantly pouring rolling orgasm and Cas’ dick spearing him open, the headboard got a long, jagged crack down it. There’s a similar tear at the wall, right where Dean’s left hand flailed against it. Cas did that, he did that because Dean spun him into enough lust to break headboards and ruin the wall.

 

Cas rips the vibrator out. When he throws it across the room, it lands with a hard, wet thunk. He pumps his hips into Dean a few more times, before he pulls out. Dean whimpers at the sensation when the head of Cas’ cock pops out of his trembling hole. It drools his release all over it.

 

“This is so beautiful,” Cas murmurs. “You were pink and pretty before, but now you’re all red, right where I fucked you. I fucked you so bright. And my seed, dripping from your hole, so slow. It wants to stay right there. I do too.” He casually swipes up the drips with his finger and pushes the come back into Dean’s waiting, willing asshole and circles his pointer finger around the pucker. “Tell me, Dean. Have you ever had someone come inside you like this?”

 

“No. N-no, I haven’t.” Dean had wanted it bad enough it made his teeth itch. He’d had it striped in the dimples of his back and on his butt, but that wasn’t enough. Before Cas, when Dean thought about dudes while getting off, he’d imagine those guys releasing up inside him. 

 

“I’m the first.” Cas hitches his hips up and comes a long rope. It’s gorgeous and strong arcing through the air, and lands right in the hollow of Dean’s throat. Cas bends down, puts his mouth there, laps himself up. “Look at what the thought of that did to me. You can never wash me off or _out_. You’re marked, you’re mine.”

 

“Always yours,” Dean says, as Cas slides up his body and kisses his mouth. Dean’s lips are swollen like balloons but he still spreads easy for Cas anywhere. Cas’ come is on his tongue and he shoves it into Dean’s mouth. He swallows it all down. The taste of it sparks another orgasm, rattling out through Dean.

 

“The more humiliating things I do to you,” Cas says, pushing Dean back onto the bed face-up, “the more you get off on it. I tell you just how I’m going to use you, make you bounce on me like in the cheap pornography you enjoy, and you come. I call you a whore and a cockslut and you empty yourself for me. I spank your face enough to make you cry and you coat yourself in spend. I call you a girl, I eat you out, I tell you I’d _impregnate_ you and I couldn’t have _forced_ you to come faster.” 

 

Dean must have come four times during Cas’ little speech. He always was a fan of proving the point. 

 

“I told you,” Dean breathes, reedy. “I’m – my wiring’s all wrong, I’ve always been like this.”

 

“It’s not wrong, Dean.” He cards a hand through his hair, and sure, he tugs hard when he gets to the ends. But it’s surprisingly sweet. Intimate. Ridiculous to think when the dude’s come is still bubbling out of your ass, but that’s just what it is. 

 

“I’m not supposed to be like this.” 

 

“You are meant to be to be exactly who you are.” His fingers move down to the sides of Dean’s neck and his throat, stroking just as slow. “Do you think you’ve been humiliated enough? Do you not _enjoy_ it, the way the _shame_ throbs through you and right out your cock? Tell me and I’ll stop.”

 

Dean meets his eyes. Holds his gaze. This is too serious, it’s been like two minutes since either one of them came. “I _love_ it, Cas. Don’t – don’t stop. And no, I haven’t been humiliated enough. Not unless you think so, Cas. Sir.”

 

Cas interrupts the moment by coming all over Dean’s stomach at the words. The sensation alights Dean anew, and his orgasm chases Cas’. Their release mixes all over his stomach, some of it pooling in his hips and some of it soaking the bed under him. 

 

“Perfect,” Cas practically purrs. “I’m glad you do. And I don’t think you’ve been humiliated enough, either.”

 

He moves over Dean’s chest, but facing his feet. Oh, fuck. Dean knows what’s coming when Cas wriggles backward, then tilts his hips up when his ass is right in front of Dean’s face. Dean gets a fuckin’ lovely view of Cas’ cleft and the tight furl right in the middle.

 

“You enjoyed it when I licked you out,” Cas growls. His tongue laps at the base of Dean’s cock, lazy but enough to pour more come out of Dean, before he’s pulling away. “Now you will do the same for me. I know you want this, Dean, you want your tongue inside my _asshole_ but my taste so good for you.”

 

Dean wonders, not for the first time, where the fuck Cas learned to talk like that. But Cas’ hips land on his mouth, and there’s no more time to think. He stretches out his tongue and breaches the sweet hole.

 

Truth be told, Dean hasn’t actually rimmed anyone in a long time. Not like he ever did it very often either. It was always guys who were willing to pay more to get his _cock-sucking lips_ and _fat wet tongue_ all over them. Or Lisa, Lisa liked it too, pumping her hips back to Dean’s waiting tongue, but it’s different rimming chicks because their pussy’s right there and Dean usually just ended up fingering her and eating her out into an orgasm, her asshole mostly forgotten about except for the spit shine around it.

 

But it’s easy to fall into it with Cas. His mouth bobs up and down like he’s actually giving head. Dean tastes the skin of his ass, thrilling in it. When Cas tongue-fucked him, he practically impaled Dean on his tongue, darting it out and up and swirling it into him. But Dean, he takes long luxurious licks at first, with the soft and wide side of his tongue. 

 

He slips his tongue inside eventually, but inch by inch, letting himself feel the rhythm of Cas’ heartbeat around his tongue. He whirls his tongue around and around and around, tasting Cas everywhere. And Cas was right, the taste of him is good, so good. 

 

Dean’s head spins with the drunk pleasure of all of this. Very far away, Cas lets out a hard grunt of delight. Dean noses and mouths deeper into his ass, amazed that Cas’ tight hole opens for his dirty human tongue.

 

“I love your tongue inside me.” Cas undulates his hips. It’s so fucking sexy, and Dean just sticks his tongue out and lets Cas push himself back on it. His hole spasms around his tongue. “I haven’t taken your dick yet. I know you’d rather let me have my way with you. But I think that could be good.”

 

All Dean can do is nod in response. No kidding he’d rather get fucked through the bedspread or bent over the table or shoved against the wall so hard it cracks. But there’s no sex with Cas that could possibly be bad.

 

“Your dick will be in my ass,” Cas heaves, “but you will not forget who is fucking who here.”

 

“N-no, _mmmph_.” Dean tries to answer him, but he’s interrupted by Cas shoving his ass back right onto Dean’s mouth. He pumps his hips a few times, rubbing his hole against Dean’s lips. 

 

“Shut up.” His hips keep rolling, and so does Dean’s tongue in return. “That’s better. Move. Don’t let me do all the work. Did you know you’ll be the first one inside my ass, Dean?” And fuck if Dean doesn’t come at that. He’s lost count of how many orgasms wracked their way through him while he rimmed Cas, but this one hits him hard like Cas’ palms did to his ass.

 

“Oh I know you love people as experienced as you are, but I think this will be enjoyable for you,” Cas continues. “I never even put anything up there, I wasn’t like you. I didn’t think about one of God’s creations for my masturbatory fantasies. I never put my – what did you think about them? – my _big beautiful fingers_ in my ass. I never touched lubrication or sex toys before this afternoon. Mmm, still haven’t touched lubrication. You’re so wet, you take my release so well inside you.”

 

Cas’ hand starts flying over Dean’s cock again. Somehow his hand is dry, so the grip is just friction, hot and raw and faster than any human could ever do. Dean’s still moaning, letting Cas’ flesh absorb it, as he comes and comes over his hand. When the jerking starts getting slick again, Cas pulls his hand away.

 

“I didn’t even think to _get myself off_ until I met the beautiful, _corrupting_ visage of the Righteous Man. Your tongue is the first thing to touch me there. You have ruined me,” Cas continues, “and I have _loved_ every minute of it.” Cas’ ass is suddenly gone, and he’s looming over Dean’s face, supporting himself on his hands. Their noses touch; Cas brushes his against Dean’s and Dean really is pathetic, because his breath catches in his throat. “And what’s better is, so have you. I love you and you love this. You _love_ me. Tell me.” 

 

“It’s – oh, Cas, yeah, fuck,” Dean moans as Cas gyrates his hips. The heads of their cocks roll together, and Dean jolts every time they touch. “I’m yours, I’m fucking yours! Cas, I love you!” Just the words make him come again, spilling all over his thighs. Dripping onto the ruined bedsheets. 

 

“My slut,” Cas says, reaching between their legs and – Dean feels his fingers near his asshole again, pushing against his perineum, but they’re seeking something else. “My love. The fucking Whore of Babylon, all for me.” 

 

Cas takes a firm grip of Dean’s dick at the base. Dean wonders if he’s trying to hold off his orgasms again, but he could do that with his mind, so probably not. Especially not when Cas has his own cock in his hand, and starts directly rubbing their slits together. Every movement, even as slight as a breath, feels too electric and sharp. A jolt through his whole system.

 

Dean rides through it anyway. “Fuck,” he heaves, the come spurting out of him too. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck…”

 

“That is what I do to you,” Cas says, entirely seriously. The very determined look is back on his face again, and then the weirdest fuckin’ thing yet happens. A foreskin spreads over Cas’ cut cock, like a little sleeve.

 

“What the…” Dean starts. But then Cas starts pushing the foreskin. The second it slides over the head of Dean’s own cock is when he realizes what’s happening. Cas pushed them together _inside his dick_. “Oh my –” At least this time he’s able to cut the _God_ off. He read about this in a few magazines he bought for the nudie pictures, but he didn’t think it could ever happen to him.

 

Didn’t think a lot of things could.

 

He looks up to Cas, but Cas is looking where they’re joined. It’s so fucking weird but his dick is tucked right alongside Cas’. Two pretty, pretty bulges slicking the way for each other. “This is so _hot_ ,” Cas breathes, thumb rubbing over both of them. He ain’t lyin’.

 

Cas lets them grind against each other, but then he grabs their cocks and re-maneuvers them. Cas’ palm and fingers move Dean’s cock wherever the fuck he wants it, and Dean comes inside their shared pocket. His come’s slicking the way as they slide their slits together, up-down up-down. Every movement is smooth and wet. Nothing Dean’s ever done has felt like this. He lets Cas pull him into a kiss and suck on his tongue and then he’s coming again, they’re both coming. 

 

Cas nips his lip hard enough to mark it, then pulls away. “Look at it,” he says, into Dean’s dazed ears. Dean does look down. Cas is moving their dicks apart again. As Dean’s slips out of Cas’ foreskin, his come drips out of it. All over both of them, all over the blanket, they’re going to have a hell of a story to tell that lady up front but Dean doesn’t care. 

 

“Did you enjoy that?” Cas asks. All faux-innocent now.

 

“Yeah. Yes. You know I did. It’s all over you.” Dean slides his fingers up and down Cas’ shaft, with the foreskin already gone, and smears their release everywhere. Coated thick in some parts, thin in others. A mess, a glorious goddamn mess.

 

“I will never steer you wrong. You must listen to me.” 

 

“I will, I will…” And like it’s a reward, Cas is diving back down between Dean’s legs.

 

Cas laps at Dean’s dick. He practically swallows it, mouth warm and wet and working over all of him. There’s no attempt to bring him off here, just clean him off for now and pump up the stimulation at once, but Dean comes into his mouth again. 

 

Cas spits it back on him, right above the base of his cock. The sensation, the visual of Cas’ mouth with the off-white stuck to it, it’s a miracle Dean ain’t coming again.

 

Cas’ dick juts proud across his belly. Dean’s mouth swells with saliva at the thought of it, the sensation of Cas’ spit and come riding low across Dean’s own stomach until it slides down to join the rest of the wet mess on his dick. Cas took Dean’s mouth before, at the _beginning_ of all this, and fucked that sweet tight vacuum seal until Dean could feel it in the back of his throat, but he hasn’t really sucked him off yet. 

 

“Let me taste you too,” Dean begs. He moves in closer, not daring to actually touch him until Cas gives him the okay. Cas _controls_ him. “Please, please, Cas, I wanna suck your dick so bad. You taste so good, I know it. Please.” 

 

Cas looks not a little smug at that. “Now who’s going ass to mouth? It’s still covered in you.” 

 

“I don’t care.” His voice is so high, feeble. “I’d take anything you gave me.”

 

“This is good talk,” Cas says, lying back, hand in Dean’s hair. “Your mouth is so pretty, Dean. You know you have lips meant to suck dick. But I know you’ve said it to other people. This is for _me_. Tell _me_ what you want.”

 

Dean snaps right back to action. “I want you to fill my pretty, _used_ mouth with your come until I’m choking on it. It tastes so good, you know, every time I get it against my tongue I lick it all up. I loooove sucking dick, all warm and throbbing and good, and your dick’s perfect. Perfect for me.” He pauses, then keeps babbling. “I wish you could grow other dicks. One for my mouth and one for my ass, two for my hands. Two for my mouth and ass too, why not? Give a pussy so you could put it there. Shove one between my tits and fuck me that way.” 

 

“Oh,” Cas murmurs, as come oozes between his fingers. The contrast of white on strong tan still looks impossibly gorgeous, after hours of seeing it again and again and _again_.

 

“It’s your dick I want against my tongue. I wanna feel you fatten up even more. I can feel your heartbeat, your blood, through your cock. You’re so warm, so alive, I’m so glad. I love you –”

 

Cas spreads his legs a little, pushing at Dean’s shoulders to indicate he’s welcome between them. “What are you waiting for?” he hisses, definitely frazzled. “Do it.”

 

Cas tastes good, so good. Dean could never get tired of the taste of his cock and the taste of his come alike. Dean usually has more finesse, prides himself on it, but his mouth’s all slack and drooling anyway so he just goes to town. He hears the most pathetic _mm mm mm_ noises he’s ever heard, like something out of a porno where the poor actress has gotta act fake-enthusiastic about the whole thing, and then he realizes it’s himself making those noises. And it’s genuine.

 

“Listen to you,” Cas says, awe in his voice. “I love you too.” Dean comes. His mouth, however loose, must do funny things around Cas’ shaft because Cas follows him over, just barely fucking that mouth while he does so. Just enough that he slides stiff and velvet over Dean’s lapping, swirling tongue.

 

Dean goes down on Cas for what might be hours. This has always been his favorite part of sex. Half the time he had to use a rubber on the other guy and got a funny taste in his mouth from the latex that he had to wash out later. Now his tongue tastes salt, salt and flesh and clean like mountain air. It’s soaked in Cas’ release. The surrounded feeling crawls up to his brain, and Dean comes and comes again, the world a mess of white.

 

At some point, Cas slips a finger inside Dean’s mouth. It’s casual, almost bored; Dean can tell he did it because he fuckin’ could. Dean’s lips stretch and burn until he can take it easily. Cas adds another, and strokes once, twice down his own cock. Dean takes it all, his warm fingers and silk-steel cock and most importantly his orgasms.

 

When Dean pulls away from Cas’ dick, an obscene strand of saliva and come connects his lips and tongue right back to that erection. Cas lifts his hips toward more contact, spending himself all over Dean’s face as he does. Dean closes his eyes and takes it takes it takes it. He lets the liquid white roll over the pink of his tongue.

 

Dean wasn’t pulling away to get his mouth off Cas, really. He moves downward. He sucks Cas’ balls between his lips, rolls his tongue over them inside their sac, flicks his tongue over them sharp; they’re so big he barely fits them inside his mouth, even as open and used as it is already. God, he wanted to taste these so bad, since they smacked his face, probably left the first bruises on him Dean’s wearing from tonight.

 

Dean’s face must be one hell of a sight. He imagines Cas putting their clothes back on – and overstimulated like Dean is, he’d probably come all over himself, in his boxers, have it smearing all over himself any time he takes a step or moves – and walking him outside. The come still spotting his face, gathered in the hollow of his throat. 

 

His red and black and blue face, halfway destroyed by Cas’ big fucking cock having his way with him and Cas’ enormous hands slapping him until he saw, fuck stars, whole _galaxies_. 

 

Whatever he looks like, Dean wants to get paraded around outside. He wants Cas to find him after a hunt when he’s sweaty and dirty and bloody and take him right there because he can’t resist Dean. He wants Cas to steer him entirely, guiding every one of his steps with one hand on his hips and the other rubbing his ass, showing him off until he can’t take any more.

 

He wants Cas to fuck him in public. Shove his head down against the carpet in the lobby, outside in the cement and dirt, against _Baby_. Mount him and fuck him and _claim_ him in front of everyone.

 

Cas’ big cock drools ropes of come onto Dean’s cheek. It drips over Dean’s eyelids, so the off-white of it and the flesh of Cas’ balls are all Dean can see even with his eyes open. He pulls back, so at least he can see Cas’ face. 

 

“Don’t stop,” Cas hisses, and obediently Dean returns to his cock. It’s halfway between sucking him off and facefucking now, Cas’ strong hips pumping into his mouth. But Dean’s tongue still laps at him, still takes every thick gush of come and tingles with it. “You like sucking my _testicles_ , Dean? Is that _embarrassing_ for you?”

 

Dean gasps out _yes_ into his shaft. It is embarrassing. He’s so humiliated, how he loved rubbing his tongue over the sac and feeling the skin move with the slickness. And it makes his entire groin throb and empty out again, and again, and again.

 

“You were meant to do this.” Cas’ hips snap harder now, and Dean relaxes his throat to let him shove into the tight grip of it. “Humiliate yourself, debase yourself, undo yourself to nothing more than this orgasmic lump of flesh.” Cas reaches backwards and strokes down Dean’s back for a few beats. The unexpected careful touch makes Dean come, dry and jolting. 

 

Then Cas manhandles him again, grabs Dean’s chest and pulls him hard by his sides so Dean’s face shoves up against Cas’ groin every time his dick passes through Dean’s lips. “But for me. Only me.” 

 

Cas uses Dean’s hair, his entire body, as a fucking handle. He moves him as he pleases and takes even more. Orgasm after orgasm wracks Dean, but all he can feel is Cas’ hands thrusting him and his dick throbbing enough that Dean has to gasp around it. 

 

Come mixes with drool and slides down Dean’s chin, all over his chest. Cas rubs it into his nipples, electric, and Dean comes over and over from the buzz that echoes inside him. 

 

“Enough of this,” Cas announces suddenly, moving Dean off him hard enough that he lands almost on the other side of the bed. Cas looms over him and pumps his fingers into his ass. The pads, all rough even with the slickness across them, press against Dean’s prostate and he comes every time Cas prods him.

 

Cas continues, hardly missing a beat. “You’ve taken your fill. It’s my turn. Soon you will take my _ass_.” 

 

Dean comes again at that. Thankfully, it’s dry, but the spasms wrack his body and he grinds back against Cas’ hand. He might’ve snapped the fingers of someone who wasn’t an angel. Cas answers Dean’s orgasm with his own, God, just from watching Dean come. 

 

Cas’ come lands mostly on Dean’s dick. He’s dirtier than when Cas first started blowing him now. The come slides down his throbbing perineum toward his hole, and every slow ooze burns fire-hot. It _hurts_ , it’s _ecstasy_ like Dean’s never felt before. 

 

Then Cas’ hand pulls away. To reach behind himself.

 

“Can I – help –” Dean gasps out, teetering on the edge of orgasming again just for the sight of Cas’ hips going see-saw against the pressure his own fingers. 

 

“Fuck no,” Cas growls. He shoves Dean down. Dean gets the distinct sensation of belts tightening around his arms and legs. It’s just this side of too constricting, like the first few pumps last time he got his blood pressure checked. 

 

He tries to move his hands and legs. He can’t. “What’d you do to me?” Dean asks, awe in his voice.

 

“I can hold you down as long as I want. Keep you here if I wanted to, needed to. I saved you,” Cas says. His hips jolt forward; his hard dick cuts a path through the air that Dean keeps his eyes laser-focused on. “I will save you. I will _do this_ to you until it is enough.”

 

“It will never be enough,” Dean gets out. “Nothing – again – ever enough –”

 

“That’s right, Dean.” Way too athletically, Cas swings his legs around Dean. He takes hold of Dean’s dick – which spasms again as Dean comes, coating Cas’ hands with come, slicking his way – and rubs it against the give of his perineum and the furl of his asshole. “You’ve been a _whore_ for too long. You’re a fucking cockslut. You’ve chased after pussy, ravenous for it.” 

 

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m yours and I embarrassed you by bringing myself so low. I just wanted sex but it wasn’t like this. Never like this.” 

 

“I own you now,” Cas says, and sinks down on Dean’s dick.

 

Being fucked’s up there. It’s actually better, Dean’s sure. But right now, nothing compares to the way Cas’ body swallows him up. There’s heat enough to make Dean shudder with fever, tightness enough to dance on the line between pain and pleasure. He wants to make this as good for Cas as Cas made it for him, fucking him all the way across this room. Instead, his hips tremble helplessly, of their own accord.

 

“I’m yours,” he says, instead.

 

“And you won’t move anything except your wide hips and dick until I let you.” 

 

“Yes, Cas. Castiel. Yes. Use me, please!” 

 

“The first piece of property I have ever owned,” Cas says, as he starts moving his hips up and down. Dean thrusts to meet him. He can feel Cas’ slide by the millimeter; it’s an agonizingly slow grind. “The only thing I could ever need. The most precious. Everyone will know you’re mine.” 

 

“Tell me,” Dean gasps. He’s rewarded with Cas pushing down hard on his stomach for that, enough that an undignified _uhhh_ escapes out his mouth. But all the pressure’s just fucking with his head, because precome leaks out of his cock from it. Oh, God, it’s all over Cas’ insides now. He’s marking Castiel. He’s going to be so dirty. He’s going to make Dean so clean.

 

“I tell _you_ what to do,” Cas reminds him. “But you’re mine now, Dean. I own you. I could _control_ you, if I wanted. Your body is enjoyable enough, but without…”

 

“What?” Dean asks, after too long.

 

“Without _you_ ,” Cas says plainly, “without your spirit, your soul, that wouldn’t be _you_. I don’t want to own your mind. Your body, though…”

 

“Please, Cas, do whatever you want to me. Please!”

 

“Oh I will.” Cas bounces against Dean’s lap now. With almost every thrust, they come together. Half of them are dry, but they can’t help it, not with Cas’ fucking goddamn _magic_ swirling between them. _Inside_ them. “Forget sex with anyone else, ever again, Dean. _They can’t have you_. I love seeing you so _used_ by anyone, but I can’t allow it any longer. Your cock, it belongs to me. Your sweet ass, your hole, that magical fucking prostate, all mine. Your orgasms are mine.”

 

That should terrify Dean. Instead, it just makes him pump his hips harder. He strains at his bonds, knowing full well he can’t break or even move them. He just needs sensation, he just needs more.

 

“You’re mine,” Cas repeats. “And you know what, Dean? I am yours, too.” 

 

He leans down. He kisses Dean. Dean can’t kiss back; his face is almost frozen like the rest of him. But Cas moves his lips against Dean’s own, swirls his tongue into his mouth, trails fingers down his neck. It’s almost gentle.

 

“Now enjoy this,” Cas tells him, and claps a hand over his eyes. “Feel it.” Something gets stuffed into Dean’s ears, too. That should scare him, too. He’s a hunter, he needs his goddamn senses.

 

Instead, he follows Cas’ orders, like he has all night. He _feels_ it.

 

With sight and sound gone, it’s like someone cranked his touch meter up way high. He didn’t think he could be more sensitive, but he was fucking wrong. He feels Cas’ inner walls gripping every ridge of his cock. Every time he comes, it’s impetus to come _again_ , because the sensations have nowhere else to go but circling back into his body. 

 

Who knows where he is right now. He opens his eyes and sees nothing but dark blue. It doesn’t feel like the wet bedspread’s against his ass any more. Maybe Cas really did pull them into outer space, or a pocket dimension. Wherever he is, every sensation against him and the very air, it’s pure ecstasy. Cas’ body _demands_ Dean feels good, even better than Cas himself does with Dean grinding continuously inside him and against his prostate, and all he can do is obey. 

 

Cas’ ass pulses around his erection. Dean settles into the clench of it, until they’re breathing together. Until their hearts beat together, keeping time to the swelling rhythm of their sex.

 

It might be a few seconds, or it might be hours, before Cas pulls his hands away from Dean’s eyes, and he can see again. Dean’s ears pop too. He blinks a couple of times against the light; the creaking sigh of the bedsprings, his own breath, it all sounds booming-thunder loud as noise returns to him. 

 

“Look at me, Dean,” Cas demands, and Dean’s eyes open wide. Cas is impossibly beautiful. Someone could sculpt him like this, the strong play of muscle as he holds himself up by pressing his hands against Dean’s stomach, the strength and smoothness of his chest, the proud jut of his mammoth erection even as he comes. 

 

But Cas isn’t a statue, he’s real. He’s real and he’s the sexiest creature Dean’s ever seen in his entire life. He’s gorgeous. He’s loving, he _loves him_. He _wants him_. He’s never going to leave him. 

 

Cas’ wings unfurl on his back, all six of them. Proud and a deep onyx and incredibly wide, enough that they scrape the boundaries of the room. Like when Dean saw them the first time, they’re not real feathers, but a glittering otherworldly blackness.

 

Cas throws his head back, the long stretch of his neck exposed now. His wings lift. He screws his eyes shut in ecstasy, lets his mouth open to take enormous swallows of air like he actually needs it. His cock shoots ropes of come that drip all over Dean. They anoint him. Cas’ wings shiver and shudder, orgasming all on their own. Silver slides from them, edging into the ruined carpet.

 

This is the creature that slides his tight, fluttering hole over Dean’s erection. This is the creature that _fucked_ him silly and will never let him fuck anyone else again, not that he even wants to. This is the most beautiful thing Dean’s ever seen in his life. 

 

Cas lifts his hips, slides them back down. Lifts, slides. Lifts, slides. He’s the undulating ocean waves, and Dean is the shore. The two of them, they meet and roll into home together.

 

Dean’s crying as hard as he’s coming now. Unworthy of this, he’s so unworthy of it. But Cas being here, doing this to him, he’s the one who _made_ Dean worthy. 

 

Cas did save him. He really did. 

 

After a long time, Cas crawls down over Dean’s body. He goes slow. He tilts Dean’s head up with three fingers under his chin and kisses him. A feather, spotted with the silver release from Cas’ wings, drifts over Dean’s lips; the shock of it hits him like a freezing shower in a Louisiana summer, unpleasant on its own but such a contrast it flips over to impossibly good. When Dean opens his eyes, Cas’ wings are gone from his sight.

 

Dean can move again. He’s tempted to blow Cas, roll his tongue around the head and into the slit on his cock until his mouth fills with his angel-honeyed come again. Or lick him out, he really didn’t do that for long enough, and Cas’ thick thighs squishing against his face would be the perfect pressure. Cas’ erection is still full against his thigh, and it would be easy to urge him into another round of wild fucking. Cas would probably love to take him in the crappy shower Dean got half a peek of when he first got in here; they’d come out of there filthier than when they started and rattle the tiles off the walls.

 

Instead, he kisses back. Dean only now notices the plushness of Cas’ lips; they’re so easy to meet with his own. This isn’t the hard possessive clash of teeth and wetness that their previous kisses had been, but Cas’ tongue still sweeps every corner of Dean’s mouth in ownership. It belongs there. _He was here_ , Dean thinks, and comes again. _Cas was here. Cas is always gonna be here now_.

 

Their lips part with a wet but quiet noise. 

 

“There is one last thing I have to do,” Cas says. He’s entirely serious, the most serious he’s looked all night. Totally naked and his cock stuck to his thigh. He’s a mess between red from exertion and white from all their releases marked across his body. His face is smeared wet. There’s come in his hair and the divot in his chin. And he still looks like he’s ready to take on a horde of demons, just for Dean.

 

“Anything,” Dean tells him, truthfully.

 

Cas raises his hand. The wetness on it, it evaporates instantly before it starts glowing a hot blue-white. Dean wonders if he’s in for the mother of all holy spankings, before Cas asks something very different.

 

“I have to – brand you again. It will complete the ritual. I need to mark you as mine, I _want_ to mark you as mine. Otherwise, what I’ve done to you may might overwhelm you.” Cas pauses and strokes Dean’s stomach with a couple of fingers on his free hand. Goosebumps plump up in the wake of them. “As enjoyable as it would be to see you constantly in a state of orgasm in public, helpless under the ecstasy I’ve caused you, I don’t think it would be very conducive to living a life.”

 

“Do it,” Dean says. “Please. Anything.” 

 

Cas smiles, leans in, kisses Dean. It’s soft and sweet, no tongue at all. “As much as keeping you tied up in bed to constantly come sounds appealing, that wouldn’t be you. And I love you.” 

 

“Me, too, Cas, I love you. You have no idea how much.” 

 

Then Cas cups Dean’s hip with his radiant blue palm, and the entire world catches flame. 

 

Oh God, it scalds him. _Scald_ ain’t a great word for it, even; it’s like the sun nudged its way in right on top of Dean’s hip. Dean’s entire body must be shaking, writhing. He must be burnt away to cinders. It feels like it. But he glances down at Cas’ hand, pushing against him insistently, and his body is entirely still. 

 

Then the burn fades. Cas moves his hand away, and stares at his work. Dean can just see the edge of a bright red finger mark. And the sensation in his body, it shifts. 

 

Dean falls back on the bed. His eyes flicker shut the same time his mouth pops open. 

 

Stupidly, Dean’s last coherent thought for a long time is the Renaissance statues he saw in the few art classes he took. Heads tilted up, spines curved funny, pillar of their neck stretched long. Religious ecstasy, they called it. More like a fuckin’ O-face. He imagines he must look the same. Then he lets the impossible bliss devour his body; he falls right the fuck into it, and he has no more actual thoughts beyond _good good good, Castiel_ for a long time.

 

The other world he thought Cas could’ve transported him to, it felt good, enough that Dean wondered if it was a dimension carved from ecstasy. It had nothing on this. There aren’t any words, just the euphoria, that seizes him and carries him away. Dean’s a kid’s kite in a storm and Cas’ love, Cas’ _claiming_ , he’s a hurricane. Dean falls into the current, rides it because Cas needs it of him.

 

He comes, again and again. He slides easy into a constant state of rapture, a river of it sliding down his thighs. His dick throbs, and his head. The orgasms are full, churning his body, pushing him over the brink hard before the ecstasy builds up again. 

 

Dean’s body sings with possession, but not just that. It sings with care and love. With _belonging_. With having someone who will never, ever leave him. His body sings with Castiel, every hair follicle through his shoulders through his hips through his dick through his knees through his toes. And Castiel pulls the most beautiful song from him, over and over, until Dean is left little more than a quivering, sloppy, naked lump on the bed.

 

Dean blinks his eyes open. Funny light trails swim out of his sight, and when they fade all he sees is Cas’ face. It’s easy to ignore the shiny sweat and the come smeared there and his fucked-up hair. Dean just gazes into his blue eyes, impossibly soft in this situation, and takes in the warm, welcoming, _grateful_ smile across his lips.

 

That smile wrings one last, dry orgasm out of Dean. His hips punch the air, and then settle lower. There’s a beat. Two. Three.

 

Then he starts laughing. Loud and boisterous and full. His hand slaps down against the bedspread. It comes back up covered in come, but it only makes the whole thing funnier.

 

“Oh my _God_ ,” Dean manages to get out eventually. He’s still laughing. “Look, man, you know I’m always fuckin’ down for it with you. I’ll try anything once. But I think that ruined me for _everything else ever again_. We just outlined the scenario – and just to get the handprint back on me – you did – oh my God, I can’t believe we did all of that!” 

 

He falls back on the bed. He’s practically in hysterics. Tears of laughter roll out of his eyes. 

 

Cas thinks Crocs are acceptable footwear. He leaves his dirty socks around. He’s picked up Dean’s awful habit of talking with his mouth full. Two weeks ago, he spent four whole days with his butt probably digging a permanent groove in the bunker’s couch, because Charlie was so horrified he’d never played a single video game and brought over like half her friggin’ library. That’s the same guy that went and did… that. He’s constantly surprising Dean, but no matter what he does, he’s amazing.

 

Cas leans over to reach into the drawer by the bed. With how hard they fucked, it tipped over onto its side. Still, the Gatorade inside a drawer is cool and sweet when Cas wordlessly hands it to Dean and lets him chug it. Cas climbs back onto the bed, leans in next to Dean, and props himself up with his hands. “That was good?”

 

“ _Good_ , buddy, yeah. That’s an understatement.” He laughs again, takes two more big swigs from the Gatorade bottle. “I’m gonna get this straight. We set up the scenario. I’d be a very, very _naughty_ boy and you’d talk about corrupting angels and go all Old Testament on me. I knew you were gonna fuck my face, and maybe me too, if you were up to it. Then I said, use my list and yours and we can have our fun before you get –” he taps his hip – “this on me again. I mean you had free rein to do anything on my list, but you came up with _everything else_ on a whim?”

 

“You’re very inspiring.” Cas’ tone is stuck between deadpan and genuine enough to make Dean’s mind spin. It somehow suits him even with drops of come sliding down his neck. 

 

“You can plan my next birthday party too if you’re gonna improvise like _that_.”

 

Cas lets himself smirk a bit. “Really? With your brother and mother there?” He counts on his fingers. God, they’re still wet. “Charlie, Kevin, Claire –”

 

“Okay, okay.” Dean laughs again, really laughs. “Point taken.” He stretches himself out. “Man, I’m not gettin’ it up for another _month_.”

 

“That would be unfortunate.”

 

“Did I mention you probably ruined any sex I’ll ever have again?” Dean meets Cas’ smile with his own, and lets the moment settle into something more serious. “Hey. I love you. I really do. We could throw out everything we just did to each other here and that’s all that matters to me.” Their kiss is soft, careful. The loosest wash of tongue against each other. 

 

“I love you too,” Cas says. Dean closes his eyes and breathes it in. 

 

When his eyes open again, Dean glances down his body. It’s a red, sweaty, _oozing_ disaster. “Man, we’re a mess.” 

 

Cas looks down his chest as if considering himself for the first time. “Oh. Yes. I should do something about that.” 

 

In the next instant, the hotel room’s immaculate. The crack on the wall is gone, the headboard’s whole again, and the sheets are clean enough to eat off of. They even smell like the detergent Dean likes. He squints at the walls. “Did you even…?”

 

“The walls have a new coat of paint, yes. It was the least we could do, I think.”

 

“Yeah, hot chick up front’s definitely getting full price even if she was gonna let me get away with half.” He glances down at his now-clothed body. He smarts like a motherfucker when he moves, but it’s the kind of good memorable ache he gets from particularly vigorous or athletic sex, not a six-hour fuckfest with hundreds of orgasms that tore apart everything he thought he was. Cas has even placed his previously ruined shirt back on his body. “Hey, thanks for this.” Dean tugs at the collar. “Truth be told it kinda sucks to be so _clean_ though.”

 

“I cleared your body of most visible marks,” Cas says, with regret. “They’re all there where your clothes will cover. I had to heal your face.” He slides his hand up to cradle Dean’s cheek. “Sorry about that one.”

 

“I think I can forgive you.” He wraps his arms around Cas. A simple hug, after everything. “Most visible marks?”

 

Cas touches a finger to the base of his throat. Dean hisses at the pressure. “I left a bite or two on your throat,” Cas confesses. “You can say you got it on a hunt.”

 

“Mmm.” Dean rubs his fingers over the tooth marks himself. “Cas, I know I tell you it all the time, but thanks for that. Uh, all you did in there. The things you don’t judge me for. I’d say more but I’d start sounding like Sammy on a safe sex talk – I hope he never gave that to you, by the way.”

 

“He attempted, many years ago. I used the clinical terms for genitalia several times and that made him give up.”

 

“That’s my boy.” Cas is in Dean’s lap now, but there’s nothing sexy about it, no grinding or squirming. It’s just because they can’t stand to be too far away, especially not after sex as intense as that. 

 

“They’re not bad words,” Cas huffs, adorably. “And you practically came when I said _penis_.” 

 

“Kinda came over a lot of things, Cas.” Dean laughs and rocks the two of them together.

 

Cas slides fingers into Dean’s hair and strokes, tender. “I – Dean – I’d never judge you, so I wonder why I judge myself constantly. The things I say to you shock me. I don’t even know if I mean half of them. My instincts take over. Sometimes I hate that I even have them when I say those things to you. The face-slapping…”

 

“That was awesome.”

 

“Dean, you cried,” Cas says, concerned.

 

“Yeah, because my orgasm was comin’ out my eyeballs at that point. We agreed that it was a yes, right? Together. And it was awesome.” 

 

Dean rubs Cas’ back. They read an embarrassing amount about this before they started, but Dean’s glad he learned it for the bottom and top drop talk. This isn’t even a bad case compared to some things that came before, but he’s still glad to be here with Castiel and talk him through it. “If what you did or said really bothered me, you know I could call the scene off. Or change it. It’s _hot_ , Cas, and there’s no fuckin’ way I’m wired wrong if you’re the one who wired me. I’m just thrilled to have someone here who understands.”

 

“And I have someone who accepts me as I am. Who lets me work out my need to get things _right_ all over his beautiful body. You make me know my hands are my own only, not for anyone else’s use.” He holds them up to Dean, and Dean presses a kiss into his wrists. “Well, yours. Always yours.”

 

“And you… I trust you, man, do you know what that means to me? I mean the humiliation thing, yeah it’s hot as shit. And I _am_ kinda slutty and _also_ kind of your bitch.”

 

Cas grins at that. His eyes are sparkling. Bingo. 

 

“And I can be your pretty girl if you want.” He bats his eyelashes and puckers his lips, hugely exaggerated. Cas’ laughter at that is the best sound in the world, even better than his screams of orgasm. “Q&A time? You got anything for me?”

 

“Don’t think so.”

 

“Well I have some questions for you. Was that really your blade?”

 

Cas rolls his eyes but smiles. “I’m impressed you were lucid enough to tell, but no. I keep that stored on an extraterrestrial plane.”

 

“Some things _are_ sacred.”

 

“More like…” Cas pauses, searching for the words. “It’s a sign of my violence. It’s had the blood of other angels all over it. It’s not worthy of you, Dean.” 

 

Dean falls quiet at that. The things Cas says, in and out of bed, it’s a lot to take. Another question circles his brain, fast and giddy. He thinks maybe they’ll drift off to sleep and he won’t ask it, because it’s… a lot. 

 

But then all the words come out of him in a rush. “ _Could_ you really turn me into a girl? Like, temporarily, but…”

 

Cas shrugs. “Almost certainly.”

 

“Look, uh. I’m gonna use what just happened in here for spank bank material for the rest of my life. We don’t need to scene for a while. And the knockin’ me up talk, got me pretty hot but that’s a no with life on the road. But everything else you said about it… next time?”

 

A smile, bizarrely shy after everything, finds its way onto Cas’ face. “Definitely next time.”

 

Dean’s fantasies used to be so boring. But now he’s got a little angel on his shoulder. One that fucks him silly, ferociously cares for him, truly does save him. Loves him. Who needs fantasy when reality’s that good?

**Author's Note:**

> work on our dcbb? no no. clearly we must write twenty thousand words of porn so explicit we make a new account to post it.
> 
> title from "take me to church" because i like clichés. hope you enjoyed!
> 
> a couple more notes: this fic could use some more (non-kink, general) tags that i withheld so i wouldn’t ruin the surprise, namely established relationship and roleplay. also, the "first time" tag isn't actually accurate. some language used in this could be interpreted as sex shaming as part of the humiliation. there’s gender = genitals talk. dean also thinks some crappy things about himself. it’s all part of a roleplay.


End file.
